Mission Impossible
by Ladya C. Maxine
Summary: The rest of the Organization are getting fed up with Xemnas’ bad mood. Desperate for a break, they conspire to get him to loosen up a bit. Somehow, this includes secretly setting him up with an equally unsuspecting Saix…Uh oh. Chapter 10 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** The rest of the Organization are getting fed up with Xemnas' bad mood. Desperate for a break, they conspire to get him to loosen up a bit. Somehow, this includes secretly setting him up with an equally unsuspecting Saix … Oh dear.

**Warnings:** shounen-ai, language, violence

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

* * *

**Mission Impossible**

_by Ladya C. Maxine_

* * *

For a world that wasn't supposed to exist, The World That Never Was felt real enough. For a castle that had, allegedly, never been built, The Castle That Never was certainly felt sturdy enough. Why either were given such misguiding names was about as puzzling as the concept behind hearts and darkness.

Those who'd named their stronghold were rather proud of their creativity, though the ridiculousness of it all hadn't been lost to them. Like a virus, the simple yet redundant names had spread with every new room discovered until there wasn't a single space in the castle that didn't have a sentence for a name. The Library That Was Never Wanted, The Kitchen That Will Soon Be No More, The Gardens That Have Become Nothing, The Laboratory That Used To Go BOOM A Lot, The Roof That Had Yet To Become, The Floor That Sometimes Was But Not Always … and those were some of the _better_ sounding ones.

Only the bathrooms were called just that (bathrooms), but only because the proposed names had been vetoed by the overwhelming majority. Xigbar was still peeved about that one.

And, because the castle was always expanding, there were more than enough rooms that needed naming, a chore that was taken over with much enthusiasm by the neophytes. Essentially, if you discovered the room, you could name it, though no vulgarity was permitted (really, there was no end to Xigbar's profanity-laced suggestion).

But to name something was to acknowledge it … so, if the world and castle they lived in didn't exist, there couldn't be anything to acknowledge, let alone name … right? The whole thing made no damn sense. Then again, they were called Nobodies but were obviously _something_, so who was he to question the existence of a few rooms?

Whoever, or whatever, they were, the fact remained that they _were_. Maybe not humans, and definitely not Heartless, they weren't the literal embodiment of a 'nobody'—it's just that no one had bothered to come up with a better word for them. Perhaps they weren't meant to exist, but that didn't mean they didn't. And if to exist—which they did—meant to be aware of oneself and one's surroundings—which they were—then one had to be capable of feeling the effects of both external and internal influences, and express one's reaction to those influences through emotions.

And yet, their Superior insisted that they were incapable of true emotions. Any evidence that suggested otherwise was dismissed as 'false and misguided memories' that were still trapped in the empty caverns in their chests that were once occupied by their hearts.

The Superior's word was final. Being the thirteenth and last member to join the ranks, Roxas was the runt of the litter, as it were, and didn't have any say in any of the decisions made by the senior members. If the Superior said they couldn't feel emotions, then Roxas wasn't about to challenge him.

But the Superior wasn't around at the moment, so Roxas had no problem sharing his feelings with the others.

"I'm confused," he said, holding out his cards to the other Nobodies at the table. "What's this supposed to mean?"

"Er, Roxas, you're kinda missing the point here," Demyx said, scratching the back of his spiky mullet. "We aren't supposed to see your cards."

Roxas frowned, but shielded his hand.

"Then how do we know who's winning?"

"Like you don't already know who'll win," Demyx said. Infamous for his undying chirpiness, the Melodious Nocturne was looking unusually dour as he stared back and forth between the three cards he had left.

For certain, the winner wasn't Demyx. He'd somehow managed to lose nine times, despite them having only played seven rounds so far. Neither he nor Roxas could figure out how he'd pulled off something like that, but, next to Roxas, Demyx had next to no clout in the Organization. It wasn't so much unfair treatment as it was a safety precaution: Demyx, though a competent fighter, didn't exactly operate as tactfully as the others.

Right now, he was openly pouting as he reshuffled his measly three cards, trying to make a glorious comeback in the game. No comeback was in the making as he quickly lost one of his precious cards to the redhead sitting on Roxas' left.

"It's not about knowing, it's about learning," Axel said to Roxas as he gave Demyx a smug smile, slipping the card into his already full hand. "L-E-A-R-I-N-G. Got it memorized?"

"You should take your own advice," a deep voice said from the other side of the room where Xaldin was polishing his lances on the couch. "You've never won a single game either, Axel. And you still owe me 500 munny."

"Put it on my tab," Axel sneered over a shoulder. When he noticed Roxas trying to sneak a peek at his cards he pulled away. "Quit it! Try using your instincts to read your opponents, or something."

"Scanning doesn't work. I've tried," Demyx said, holding onto his two remaining cards for dear life.

"Instincts?" Roxas rolled his eyes. "It's just a card game."

At last, the fourth and final Nobody at the table stirred at those words. Even though the game was a walk in the park for the Gambler of Fate, Luxord took every card game seriously. It had to be hard for someone like him to hear others speak lowly of his life's passion, but Luxord would never lower himself to respond with anything but a gentleman's patient argument.

Any other sort of response would be 'uncouth', as Luxord would say.

"Ah, but a card game is all about instincts, young Roxas," he said as he stroked his perfectly trimmed goatee. "You could learn all the tricks in the trade, but they cannot guarantee you a win. You have to know yourself when to fold and when to bluff; when to call a bluff and when to swap. In a game such as this one, one wrong move, one bad choice, one second of doubt, and everything is lost."

To prove his point, he relieved poor Demyx of his last two cards, leaving the musician staring morosely at his empty hands.

"You're playing Go Fish," Xaldin said bluntly. His lances vanished into thin air and he folded his arms. He was bored, but not bored enough to get drawn into such a childish game. They could have been embroiled in a good poker game right about now, had Axel not come along and insist that the boy be allowed to play as well, and XIII knew next to nothing about cards so he had to be taught, starting with the simplest games.

"I'm a gambling man, but I am also fair," Luxord said as he took mercy on Demyx and handed him five cards (which explained how Demyx managed to lose more than once per game). "Roxas is a novice, both as a Nobody and a player. As his superior I am compelled to acquaint him with the finer things in his new life."

"I'll bet you the boy doesn't last a week," Xaldin said.

"He can fight!" Axel hotly argued. "His keyblades can take out your floating toothpicks like that." He snapped his fingers.

"He may have keyblades, but that doesn't mean that he can use them," Xaldin shot back. This wasn't so much a heated argument as it was a way to pass the time, and Xaldin enjoyed nothing more than a good verbal battle, except perhaps a really good physical one. "The Heartless are getting stronger, and bolder. And it's not easy to hold the boy's hand once you're engaged in battle."

Roxas glowered at the much larger man, but he didn't yet have the experience to dispel Xaldin's predictions. He had done pretty good during training—good enough, even, to draw the Superior out into the courtyards to watch—but that had been against Axel and Demyx. Not that they weren't strong fighters; they just didn't make much of an effort to land any hard blows. He'd trained once with Luxord, but the man's manipulation of time, and his aggravating use of random cards and dice, had quickly overwhelmed Roxas.

"I'll get stronger," he said to Xaldin, who grunted and tossed his head. "You guys have been Nobodies a lot longer than I have."

"Yeah, and once he's done training he'll show you a thing or two," Axel said, slinging an arm around Roxas' shoulder and giving Xaldin a cocky look.

"One, you're never done with training," Xaldin said over Roxas' insistence that Axel not talk for him. "And two, all the training and experience in the worlds will never fully prepare you for what's to come."

The doors burst open, almost cracking as they slammed into the walls on either side. In came Xigbar, walking heavily, guns in hand. His coat was torn, especially around the hem and sleeves. His already scarred face was badle scratched and his hair had come loose. He was also missing a glove. Panting and staggering, he looked like an escaped madman as he dragged himself towards them. Meeting their surprised stares with a one-eyed glare, he snarled and threw down his weapons, which safely teleported themselves back to the second-in-command's room before any more damage could be done to them.

For a while, no one said anything.

For a _short _while.

"So, how was your evening?" Xaldin asked cordially, though he didn't hide his maliciously gleeful grin. "It seems you ran into some complications."

"Heartless," Xigbar hissed. He pulled Demyx out of the chair and carefully sat down with a groan, ignoring Demyx's indignant sputtering from the floor. "Fucking Heartless … everywhere. Those little bastards ambushed me. Not a dozen. Not a hundreds. Thousands! I had to summon fifty Snipers, and that only got half the job done! Seriously, dudes, this is getting really old, really fast!"

"You're age is finally catching up with you, is it?" Xaldin asked, milking the moment for all it was worth as he leaned against the back of the couch.

"Don't make me drag my sorry ass over there and rip your braids out, _Dilan_," Xigbar warned. It wasn't common for the Freeshooter to be in such a foul mood, but everyone knew that when Xigbar did get mad, he got _pissed_. "What the hell was the point of that mission, anyway? It was out in the middle of fucking Nowhere Land! When was the last time we had to be in K12?"

"Which one is that?" Luxord asked calmly, taking all of Axel's hearts to complete the set.

"How the hell should I know?! I didn't even know it existed until I was cornered in it by those cockroaches. Man, who cares if they're breeding down there? Let them screw around and have lots of Heartless babies, as long as they keep their nipping carcasses away from me!" Having said that, Xigbar released a long breath and slumped back in the chair, throwing an arm over his face. "Useless … This is the fourth time in less than two months I got such a crap-tastic mission."

"At least you got to fight," Axel grumbled, folding his arms as he watched the others play on. "I was stuck in Hollow Bastion for a week, watching talking ducks and an old wizard in purple robes. The only informative thing I picked up was how _not_ to make sea-salt ice cream."

"Hey, be gratefully you guys didn't have to scrub castle floors," Demyx said, drawing on the floor with his finger while his head rested in his other hand. "It took me days, even with my powers."

"At least you could use your powers. My Dragoons are not made for washing dishes," Xaldin sneered, finally standing and coming over to the rest, working the kinks out of his back. He felt as old as Xigbar looked, but, giving the sour mood the Freeshooter was in, he would put a bullet through Xaldin's throat if he were to point that out. "Cleaning! Bah! That's a woman's work, that."

"You staked out the Beast's castle a few times, right?" Axel asked. "Doesn't he have a girl living there? You could tell the Superior that separating her from the Beast would throw him into even more despair, and we'd get a new maid!"

"Don't think I haven't considered that," Xaldin said. "Then again, not every woman has got a womanly touch. When she was here Larxene was little more than a deadweight. She wouldn't cook or clean or even act girly. Nothing but sadistic, straight down to the core."

"But she was a laugh to have around," Axel said fondly. "Too bad Marluxia went and ruined the fun for everyone."

"Hello? Will you guys forget the damn dishes and floors?" Xigbar loudly butted in. "Is it just me, or have our missions been more than a little shitty these past few months?"

Having not yet been on any mission, Roxas was feeling left out.

"Well, maybe … " he started to say, only to be cut off by Xaldin as the debate on who got the worst assignments escalated. Even Demyx had something to contribute to the subject.

Roxas sunk back in his seat.

He hated being the shortest, and the youngest. Not for the first time, he wondered why he'd even been recruited. Other than having the keyblades, which seemed to mean a lot to the others but no one would tell him why, he had very little knowledge of world domination or genocide. He was still in basic training and could not navigate the Corridors of Darkness as effectively as he'd like (though, to his credit, this was one aspect of being a Nobody he was learning quickly). During meetings he'd just sit there in his white throne-like seat, directly opposite the Superior, and try to follow all that was being said, unable to grasp enough of it to earn him the rights to voice any opinions.

Roxas' memory only went as far back as him waking up in front of a large mansion in Twilight Town, with no idea who he was. It had been a frightening moment when he realized he knew nothing about himself, not even his name. By the time the stranger in a black coat appeared before him and offered him a home and a name, he'd accepted the offer without hesitation, comforted at the thought that this had happened to others and that he'd be around people like him.

It was a … unique bond.

Because the Organization had been split into two teams (one that had remained in The Castle That Never Was, and one that had been sent to Castle Oblivion) soon after his recruitment, Roxas had had next to no time to get acquainted with their deceased comrades. Based on how that had ended, he was glad he hadn't met Marluxia and Larxene. Vexen had given him a medical examination when he'd returned with the Superior, but the blond scientist hadn't been the most patient or approachable person. Lexeaus had been even more intimidating then Xaldin, and was hardly ever seen without Zexion, with whom Roxas probably would have gotten along with since Zexion himself had been pretty young and serious, like Roxas.

Nowadays, when he wasn't trying to avoid Xigbar's deadly booby traps ("It's good training!" Xigbar insisted.), he had to contend with Xaldin's bluntness, and Luxord's at times mind-bogglingly speech. Demyx was friendly and outgoing, but when around him there was always the feeling that some freak accident was about to happen. Axel was the only one he could trust … most of the time … mainly because there was no one else to turn to. Since their first meeting in Twilight Town, Roxas had spoken very little with the Superior. Their leader preferred to watch his progress from afar, with little intervention, and now seemed much more interested in paperwork and Kingdom Hearts.

And then there was their final member, Saix. Roxas only ever saw him during meetings, and the Luna Diviner had shown no interest in approaching Roxas. Saix was quiet, like Lexeaus and Zexion, but whereas those two had mostly spent their time wordlessly planning and solving puzzles, Saix's silence reminded Roxas of a hunter contemplating his prey from a distance. Saix operated alone, and Roxas had yet to see or hear him speak to anyone other than the Superior, and only ever about their cause.

Their cause … Roxas still wasn't sure what exactly they were supposed to be doing. He figured that, as the newbie, he would probably be left out of any key decisions until they deemed him trustworthy enough. So far, they hadn't done anything all that organized, unless, as Xigbar so delicately put it, you counted 'mass bitching' and 'collective fuck-all-ness'.

And when they did get missions, they complained about them. Like now, for instance.

"How about we play for it?" Axel challenged Xigbar and Xaldin. "Whoever loses has to carry out the winner's missions. See how much _you_ like sitting on your asses all day listening to ducks talk about ice cream."

"You'd rather be gnawed on by Shadow Heartless? Knock yourself out," Xigbar said, pointing to the door. "There were still a good two hundred or so left when I hightailed it out of there."

"Oh yeah, well … "

This was going to go on forever. Everyone seemed to be 'enjoying' the argument so much, Roxas felt that, as the only one with nothing to complain as far as missions were concerned, he was the only one who might be able to put a stop to this.

"Shouldn't we … " he tried again, now having to contend with everyone's voice as Axel, Demyx and Luxord had joined in, convinced that Xigbar and Xaldin (respectively ranked 2nd and 3rd) got far more favourable tasks, which the two vehemently denied. Roxas cleared his throat loudly. "Shouldn't we be taking on these missions without complaint? I mean, no matter how bad they may be, it's all for the good of the Organization … right? The Superior's doing this all in our best interest, after all."

The room fell silent.

"In our best interest," Xaldin repeated slowly, then scoffed, flicking thick braids over a broad shoulder. "Boy, don't speak of things you don't know."

"C'mon, lay off him," Axel said, coming to Roxas' defence.

"Look, lil' dude," Xigbar said, picking at a rip in his coat, "you probably think the world of the Superior, because he gave you an identity and all that, but you don't know him. None of you do," he said, looking at Axel, Demyx and Luxord as well. "He's no longer Xehanort, just as Xaldin and I are no longer Dilan and Braig, but there's still enough of his old self left for us to know when something's changed about him. Ever since flower boy and lighting girl tried to bring down the Organization, Xemnas has been very careful, but still suspicious. And it's not Xaldin and I he mistrusts … "

The neophytes looked among themselves.

"He doesn't … He doesn't think that any of us will try to betray, does he?" Demyx asked, sounding very nervous. "No way! Marluxia was bad news from day one, and Larxene was his best friend. And why would the Superior only suspect us; Axel's a neophyte and he proved that he could be trusted."

"At the cost of one of our own," Xaldin reminded.

"Hey now, I had to gain Marluxia's trust," Axel said, not looking as guilty as he should have been over Vexen's death. "It came at a price, but look! The traitors have been weeded out and the Organization is still going. Besides, you never liked Vexen very much, either."

"You really didn't, Xaldin," Xigbar agreed. "Anyway, so you kiddos got Xemnas all suspicious-like, though that doesn't explain why Xaldin and I are being punished as well."

"Perhaps he is trying to beat us down," Luxord said, gathering his cards since no one was playing anymore. "By making us do demeaning work, he is reminding us of his authority."

"Or maybe he's just feeling really stupid about being duped by Marluxia so he's taking it out on us," Axel said. "Seeing us return to the castle, bloody and filthy after another worthless mission, is probably really therapeutic for him."

"Well, if it's all because of Marluxia then maybe it's just a temporary thing," Roxas said.

"Xehanort was never the type to forgive and forget," Xaldin said, scratching his hairy cheek. "Unfortunately, that trait carried over when he became a Nobody. If he really is fuming because of what those two tried to do, then we can look forward to years of this sort of treatment."

"This stinks," Demyx said, stretching out his legs on the floor and wriggling them as they threatened to fall asleep. "I liked the Superior a whole lot more before Marluxia came along. He was strict and stuff, but at least we got missions that were fun to carry out. And he spoke a lot more to us, too. And not like his long, boring speeches during meetings; he'd even eat with us in the dining room. I wish we could get the old Superior back."

Everyone nodded.

" … Well, why not?" Roxas asked. "Why not try to get the old Superior back?"

"Not unless you can time travel, and not even Luxord can do that," Axel said. "No offence, Lux."

"None taken."

"Just think about it," Roxas insisted, planting his elbows on the table, "no more suicide missions."

Xigbar blinked, rubbing his scarred chin in thought.

"No more boring stakeouts."

Axel's green eyes sparkled at the thought.

"No more … well, someone has to keep the place clean, but the Superior could just have the Dusks do it."

Demyx beamed.

"And what exactly," Xaldin said, bursting the euphoric bubble of high hopes, "do you suggest we do about it, boy? Sign a petition asking Xemnas to be nicer?"

"You know him better than any of us," Roxas said to Xigbar and Xaldin. "Isn't there something you know about him that could help us? Before you became Nobodies, what was he like?"

"Bitchy," Xigbar said without hesitation.

Xaldin rolled his eyes, but didn't refute it.

"O-kay … what did he do most of the time?"

"Bitch."

"He was the most studious out of all of us," Xaldin stepped in, with some more useful information. "When he wasn't attending lectures he was studying ahead and writing extra essays and carrying out different experiments."

"One of which didn't go quite as planned," Xigbar said, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands behind his head. "Not much has changed there. He's still a bookworm and still prefers being holed up somewhere, writing who knows what and reading the same books and scrolls over and over again. Wow, I never noticed just boring he is … "

"Unless you can give him Kingdom Hearts, complete and ready for use, there's really nothing else. That's his only goal right now."

Roxas thought that one over, and the thought quickly grew into an idea that could be either brilliant or deadly.

"Why does he want Kingdom Hearts?"

"Haven't you been paying attention during meetings?" Axel asked. "Mind you, I fall asleep too sometimes. Once Kingdom Hearts is ready, the Superior says that it'll give us our hearts back, and unlimited power."

"The Superior wants his heart back. He wants to _feel_ again," Roxas said, carefully putting his plan on the table. "He doesn't believe we possess emotions now, but he wants to. He must feel empty, like the rest of us. But at least we have each other."

"Aawwww," Xigbar said, putting on a loving face. "You care? You really care?"

"I'm serious," Roxas said, ducking the hand that was trying to ruffle his spiky hair. "Quit it! All I'm saying is that, although we drive each other nuts sometimes, it's usually fun hanging out together. It gives us something to do; helps us relax and feel at ease. But the Superior's on his own most of the time, in his office with nothing but reports and books. He can't unwind if he's working all the time, and if he's working all the time then he must be stressed every now and then, and if he's stressed … "

"He will constantly be on the edge, and perhaps a wee bit paranoid, is what your saying?" Luxord guessed. "There is a flaw in your theory, though. If you are suggesting we get the Superior more involved in our frivolity you forget that the Superior is not one to waste time. Right now, I dare believe that completing Kingdom Hearts is his passion. Gambling is my passion, and if ever I were to be parted from it I would become quite disagreeable. I cannot imagine the Superior enjoying himself if it does not concern Kingdom Hearts."

"Oh, I know!" Demyx said, excitedly waving a hand to get their attention. "If we cannot get him to relax around us, then why don't we get him a hobby he can do on his own? When I'm feeling down I like to play my sitar, so maybe we should get him an instrument—"

"This is a castle, not a symphony hall," Xaldin said.

"Okay, I'm getting bored. If no one's got a better idea, how bout we just forget the whole thing and hope that sooner or later Kingdom Hearts will come crushing down and kill us all?" Axel said, leaning back and throwing his feet up on the table, crushing Xigbar's hand where it rested.

"Hey!" Xigbar snarled, annoyed that he now had yet another injury to tend to. With a wave of his hand he deepened gravity beneath Axel, sending him crashing to the floor with a yelp.

Roxas was about to give up. He hadn't proven himself yet, but at least he'd gotten his say in something. So he was surprised when, of all people, Demyx still dared to continue with the subject.

"Guys, what if the Superior needs … you know … "

"No, we don't," Xaldin said. "_Do_ tell."

"Well … maybe he's lonely, so … "

"No pets," Xigbar said immediately.

None of them would be forgetting Demyx spontaneous decision to adopt all 99 Dalmatian puppies anytime soon. That none of the yipping runts had been housebroken had made it a very quick eleven-to-one vote to send them straight back to Traverse Town. Larxene had sided with Demyx on keeping them, but only because she was giddy with the idea of making a fur coat out of the pups.

"Nah, not a pet. More like a … " Demyx blushed as he fiddled with the laces of his boots. "You _know_ … "

" … Whoa." Axel's green eyes went wide. "You don't mean … You think the Superior needs a girlfriend?"

Demyx's earnest nod was met by ridiculing laugher from Xaldin, Xigbar and even Luxord.

"Awesome idea!" Xigbar roared. "Let's just round up those Princesses of Hearts and have him choose one! I can hear the wedding bells already! Dude, I call dibs on best man!"

"I'll be the flower girl!" Xaldin chuckled. "Marluxia would have killed for that honour!"

Roxas felt sorry for Demyx as the musician sulked on the floor, but even he thought the idea was too outrageous and dangerous. So when Axel, looking dead serious, spoke, it came as a shock to everyone.

"Actually … that's not a bad idea."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Count me out," Xigbar said, leaning further back on his chair than gravity would usually allow. "Absolutely not! Do you know what Xemnas would do to us if he found out? We'd be banished to the 100 Acre Woods for a month, and if I ever have to put up with that snivelling piglet again I'll pump him full of lead!"

"Not to mention we really don't want another woman here. Larxene was bad enough," Xaldin said.

"Duh, we're not going to bring in anyone new!" Axel said, looking more and more excited. "Can't trust strangers these days, can we? The Superior would have them slaughtered before they could even make it to the front door. Nope, we need someone who's already on the inside."

"Axel," Luxord said, very slowly, "if you're saying what I think you're saying … "

"…What's he saying?" Demyx whispered to Roxas, who shrugged.

"Pop quiz time! Three questions: who does the Superior tolerate the best? Who doesn't mind being around the Superior, no matter for how long? And who is just as socially dead as the Superior?"

The horrified looks growing on everyone's faces was just the answer Axel needed.

"Let's hook the Superior up with Saix!" he said with so much enthusiasm the rest knew there was no way they were going to talk him out of it.

The Luna Diviner's name alone almost made Roxas bolt from his chair. How the heck did things get so out of hand? His initial plan had been risky, but bringing Saix into the mix had just made the whole thing suicidal.

"You're all insane," Xaldin said, already on his way to the door.

"Ditto," Xigbar said, jumping to his feet and following Xaldin. "Have as much fun with is as you can before Saix rips your spines out and beats you to death with them."

Demyx couldn't even respond, too busy hugging his knees and fearfully shaking his head.

Luxord bravely remained in his seat, but his left eye twitched ever so slightly as he laced his fingers and tried to reason with the redhead.

"Axel, there is one major flaw in that plan, namely: Saix."

"Didn't you just say, Luxord, something about knowing when to bluff and when to call and all that? Think of it as the biggest and most rewarding gamble of your life!" Axel would not be dissuaded from his intent, that much was clear. "If we play our cards right, altogether, we must be able to outsmart and manipulate those two bores. Xaldin, manipulation is you speciality."

"I prefer breathing more, thank you," Xaldin said, leaning in the doorway while Xigbar paced back and forth in midair. "_VIII_, as your superior I order you to abandon this … this … doomed experiment."

"As the official second-in-command, I totally second that," Xigbar said, managing to look formidable despite hanging upside down like a one-eyed bat. "It was fun while it lasted, but you're taking this too far. What was the first thing I taught you youngster when you got here, Axel? Do not provoke Saix, unless you are the fastest son of a bitch in the universe."

"But we won't get caught!" Axel argued.

"You couldn't even slip pass the Cheshire Cat in Wonderland," Xaldin said.

"Oi, that plan would have worked if I hadn't suddenly developed magical cats allergies."

Roxas clenched and unclenched his fists as the pros and cons were bartered back and forth.

"Oh man, if Saix found out about it he'd go all Berserker on us for sure," Demyx moaned, tugging at his hair in distress.

Roxas had yet to witness this infamous Berserker mode, but if it made Saix an even more dangerous being than he already was, it had to be a hellacious experience.

"At least Roxas agrees with me, don't ya?" Axel said, turning to Roxas, who froze.

"Er … I … "

"After all, it was your idea to start with, remember?"

"Yeah, no … but … I … "

''There! Then it's me and Roxas on one side, you two babies," he pointed to Xigbar and Xaldin, "on the other. Luxord, Demyx, whadya say?"

"I won't pick sides," the Gambler said gamely. "Consider me to be on neutral grounds."

"Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man! You're asking the wrong guy here … " Demyx said when everyone turned to him. "I … I don't … I can handle all this pressure!"

"We need a decider and you're the only one left, pal," Axel said. " Unless you want to go ask Saix—"

"Ask me what?" a cold voice asked from the doorway.

Demyx dove under the table as Xigbar ungracefully lost his footing and tumbled to the floor, only just managing to flip over and land on his feet. Luxord, Roxas and Axel all went very still, almost hoping that, by not moving, they would go unnoticed.

"Damnit!" Xaldin snapped, having had a bad start himself. He spun around to face the blue haired man watching him with those feral yellow eyes. "Consider it an order from now on that you mustn't be so damn silent when entering a room, VII!"

"My apologies, sir." Saix said, respectful and polite towards his superiors as always, yet scarily unpredictable as well. "I understand that my opinion was being sought for something?"

Shifty eyes darted everywhere, and everyone wondered the same thing: had he heard more than he was letting on?

"We were … um … " Axel fumbled to come up with something, looking as though he was finally reconsidering his plan now that he'd been reminded just how terrifying Saix was.

"Which is more challenging: poker or black jacks?" Luxord asked, pulling out his cards and shuffling them, apparently calm but judging by how fast he was shuffling he had to be as nervous as the rest of them. "We're divided on the matter."

"You are the Gambler of Fate," Saix astutely pointed out.

"We were only wondering." Luxord said, then quickly dropped the subject. "You have been gone for quite a few days. How went your mission in Deep Jungle?"

"Successful," Saix said, looking over Xigbar's sorry state. "No complications."

"Meaning he killed whatever got in his way," Axel whispered to Roxas.

Saix's pointy ears twitched, being sharp enough to hear a pin drop in the middle of a bar fight. Everyone waited to see whether he'd react to that, but his mission must have gone very well because, his wrathful energy depleted, he did not pull out his claymore, or even growl. Without another word, Saix nodded to them all and disappeared through a portal.

Loud sighs of relief swept through the room and Xigbar pealed himself off the wall, leaving bloody smears on the white surface.

"That great idea of yours isn't looking so great now, is it?" he asked Axel.

"Betcha Saix would be a lot more agreeable too if he had a 'special buddy'. See, this proves I'm right," Axel said, which was received with exasperated groans. "And we're all going to have to be in on it; stragglers might say or do something to give the rest of us away if we aren't all up to date with the plan."

"That's blackmail," Xaldin sneered, but came back over, with Xigbar grudgingly in tow. "If anything goes wrong I'll make sure to have the pleasure of killing you first, Axel, before Saix peals my flesh from my bones."

"Enlighten us, Axel," Luxord said. "How, exactly, are we going to go about this?"

"We'll need a moderator, of course," Axel said. "Someone who's gonna be the one that steers those two together. Someone who has to get as close as them as possible yet not rouse suspicion, if you know what I mean. It'll have to be someone who can talk to them, and plant ideas."

"Master Manipulator," Luxord said, pointing to Xaldin.

"Let's get one thing straight: _none_ of us can get close to Saix, so don't even try. And you don't think it would be suspicious that I, after having known Xemnas for so many years, would suddenly start asking questions and visiting him more often?" Xaldin scoffed. "Our relationship is already established: we were once Ansem's apprentices; now he gives orders and I follow them."

"Same here," Xigbar said. "Me and Xemnas get along better than him and Xaldin, but if I suddenly act all chummy towards him alarm bells will go off in his head, and then _our_ heads will roll."

"But if Marluxia gave all us neophytes a bad name, then who's left?" Demyx asked, getting to his knees.

"Well," Luxord said, sounding as though he didn't really want to say it out loud. "It may be cruel, but I can think of someone … "

Roxas' eyes went wide when everyone turned to him.

"M-Me?"

"This was your idea, lil' dude," Xigbar said.

"My idea didn't include Saix!"

"C'mon, Roxas! You're our last chance," the redhead said. "You're the least suspicious of us all. The Superior won't think much about you asking stuff, since you're new around here. He'll assume you're just trying to learn the ropes by hanging around him more."

Roxas made a tiny sound, suddenly wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut and played Go Fish. Everyone was on board now, and, once again, he was back to where he'd started: being the new kid, the one everyone else could boss around. He'd really put his foot in it this time.

"Don't worry, Roxas," Demyx encouraged, "we're all behind you."

"Far, _far_ behind him … " Xaldin muttered loudly to Xigbar, who grunted in accord as he found yet another tear in his long, black coat.

Slumping back in his chair, Roxas felt very light headed.

Tbc …

* * *

Read & Review, please.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings**: see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

**A/N**: a fair number of fanfics mock Xemnas (or, as they love to call him, Mansex); making him out to be a sort of screwball character when Xemnas is actually a serious and respectfully dangerous individual. And since it's the shenanigans of the others that will take center stage in this fic I'm writing him as a (no pun intended) straight character.

I usually stick to one point of view (POV), but in this story there can be multiple POV's per scene.

* * *

Xemnas was just putting the final touches on his latest chart when there came a knock on the door.

"Enter," he said, not needing to ask who it was.

Every one of his underlings had a different way of entering his office, mostly through extravagant or loud gestures. Seeing how this had been a simple two knocks, without any explosions or crashing waves of water (he'd have to remember to address Demyx on that habit), he knew it could only be Saix, and was proven right, as usual, when the Diviner stepped in and quietly closed the door behind him, taking care to be as least intrusive as possible.

"Such a good little second-in-command," Xigbar would joke to Xemnas whenever Saix was brought up in conversation. "He's more loyal to you than your shadow, and twice as silent."

With the loss of Vexen, Lexeaus and Zexion, Saix was now the 4th most senior operative in the Organization, but why everyone was so quick to assume that Saix to be the second-in-command wasn't clear. For sure, Saix was competent and loyal to the cause, but he had no interest in leading anything, not even missions with the others. Saix was a follower, not a leader.

"Status?" Xemnas asked, returning to his paperwork while Saix stood before his desk.

"We are all accounted for. Number II returned before me. He did not make it out of there unscathed, but I saw no serious injuries," Saix reported. "The others, however, seem to be getting restless. They were discussing something they obviously did not want me to hear, though I could detect nothing harmful to the Organization. I suspect it to be nothing more than a misdemeanour in the making."

In this, Xemnas trusted Saix's observation to be correct. The Diviner had proven himself more than capable of weeding out the unfaithful among their ranks: he had immediately singled out the traitorous Marluxia and Larxene the day they arrived, and had he not been warned Xemnas would have never known of the two audacious neophytes intent until it would have been too late to stop them from completely ruining his plans.

"Leave the rest for now," he said, holding out a hand. "Your report."

Saix handed him the papers he'd brought in. Abandoning his calculations, Xemnas flipped through the stack.

"I'll need the sector overview as well," he said.

A second file was placed in his waiting hands.

"Moving on," Xemnas said, closing both and pushing them to one side. He would have to get to them once he had the time. "The last report on Atlantica was insufficient; Demyx spent almost all of his time singing with the merpeople. Send someone back there because we need those statistics."

"If I may make a suggestion, Superior. IX knows Atlantica better than anyone else; it is only his bad habit of straying from his objective that needs curbing. Perhaps it would be best to send someone else along with him? III, for example, could easily keep IX's mind on the task."

"Very well," Xemnas said, distracted as he searched his cluttered desk, shifting through old charts and maps in search of the leather-bound book in which he kept record of every world excursion. "Heartless control status?"

Saix opened his own book and went down the list.

"Agrabah is teeming with Fat Bandits. My Berserkers can easily counter their bulk. Number II has dealt with our resident hive, with minimal injuries. The Underworld is showing unusually active Heartless activity. Seeing as IX won't be available, VIII could take his place, though perhaps we should wait a couple more weeks to see whether Hades handles the population down there himself."

Xemnas nodded along with what the Luna Diviner said, but was still looking for the book. He was just about to search his desk again when the elusive book was held out to him.

"It had fallen off your desk, sir," Saix said.

Instead of taking the book, Xemnas tossed the other a pen.

"Make note of the upcoming missions," he said. "And who does that leave?"

"II, X, XIII and myself."

Xemnas sat back in his tall chair and thought long and hard before a cruel smile graced his tan face.

"What is the one world Xigbar hates the most … ?" he wondered out loud, though he already knew the answer.

Saix blinked, then nodded.

"He'll be leaving for the 100 Acre Woods by the end of this week."

"For two weeks," Xemnas added. "Luxord is due back in Port Royal to continue searching for the Isla de Muerta. However, after that he must pay a visit to Deep Jungle. And I think Roxas is ready for his first solo mission. Send him somewhere safe, like Traverse Town; he can stock up on a few supplies."

" … And me, sir?" Saix asked.

"These," Xemnas nodded at a tall stack of papers, "need reviewing. I want them back on my desk by tomorrow."

Paperwork was the pet peeve of most of his subordinates, but Saix accepted the task without complaint and gathered the reports.

"Anything else, sir?" he asked, arms full.

"That will be all for now."

Xemnas didn't wait for the other to leave before returning to his own papers, but less than a couple of minutes later there came another knock, which he didn't recognize as Saix's, though he had a good enough idea who it could be.

"Enter."

The door creaked open and a blond head peeked in.

"Good evening, Superior."

Xemnas' immediate response was a glare. Not at Roxas, but at the suspicion that the reason why the boy would come to him was because he was in trouble, possibly sent by Xaldin or Luxord. Sitting back in his chair, Xemnas laced his fingers together and motioned with his head for the other to come in.

"Number XIII," he acknowledged loftily.

Roxas gulped. He was still shaken after almost running into Saix back down the hall. Having never encountered the Diviner outside the meeting room, he'd panicked, expecting the older Nobody to read him like a book and figure out their plans. But Saix had merely told him, in his creepily calm way, that the Superior was busy and that Roxas was to make the meeting a brief one. Roxas had walked away from that encounter convinced that this was all a bad idea.

Now standing before the Superior, Roxas was convinced that this was a _very _bad idea. Why didn't their leader look so happy to see him? He hadn't even said or done anything yet!

"S-Sir," he said, trying to remember what Axel had trained him to say. It was hard to think, however, when the Superior was looking right at you with those bright orange eyes.

Seeing the boy fidget, Xemnas took some pity on him, knowing that, whatever had happened, it wasn't Roxas' fault.

"Where is Axel?" he asked instead.

"We haven't done anything wrong!" Roxas almost shouted, wincing when the Superior narrowed his eyes. "I mean … I-I … "

Xemnas studied the boy, trying to understand his odd behaviour.

"If you are not here to be held accounted for any wrongdoing, then why are you here?" he asked. "I'm very busy right now."

'Stay cool … Stay calm … Stay cool,' Roxas chanted to himself, and it worked somewhat. "I know you have lots to do, sir, but I was just wondering if you could tell me more about us."

"Us?"

"The Organization, sir. And Kingdom Hearts."

It wasn't a outrageous request, Xemnas supposed. Roxas was still young, so it was a given that he'd have questions. On the other hand, the boy had asked very few questions so far, mostly content to just follow Axel around and learn from him. The only other neophyte who'd come to him seeking more knowledge about them and their cause had been Marluxia …

Roxas swallowed nervously when a stony look came over the Superior's face.

"I know it sounds weird, coming to you after so many weeks," Roxas said, going on the defensive by taking the initiative, "but at first I thought I'd pick it all up as I went along. I was wrong. It's a lot more complicated than that. At first, I didn't want to bother you by asking questions, but I … You are the Superior, so you know everything there is to know, and everything that the rest of us don't need to know. I tried asking the others, but Xigbar and Xaldin told me to mind my business; Axel doesn't care what we're doing, as long as he has fun doing it; Demyx tried to explain things, but ended up confusing himself; and Luxord offered some useful information, but he's a latecomer, like me."

The boy's argument was sound.

"Very well," Xemnas said. With a wave of his hand he summoned a chair over and motioned for the boy to take a seat. "What is it you want to know?"

His feet barely touching the floor, Roxas couldn't believe that the plan was actually off to a promising start. His objective wasn't really to learn anything about the Organization. They (and by 'they' was meant 'everyone but him') were hoping to get Roxas closer to the Superior during these conversations.

Luxord had made an insightful point: the one to make the "first move" would have to be the Superior. If the Superior, through all manipulation and coaxing, were to dub the Diviner as his 'special buddy', Saix would not protest their leader's decision, even if he were against it. Simply put: they'd have to get the Superior interested in Saix first before they could try it the other way around.

Things seemed to be going alright so far, but Xaldin had already drawn up escape routes, in case it all went straight to heck.

"I don't remember anything about the time when I had a heart," Roxas began, "but I heard that you, Xigbar and Xaldin do, and that you were the first to become Nobodies through experimenting and something about keys and hearts … and … "

The Superior's eyes were gleaming. It wasn't an angry gleam. Nor an insulted gleam. It was a proud gleam, the scariest of them all because _that_ particular gleam could mean only one thing: the Superior was about to go into a long and boastful speech.

"It was not just about keys and hearts, Roxas," the Superior said, resting his elbows on the armrest and lacing his fingers on his stomach. "What I accomplished back then was a breakthrough never witnessed in the history of Hollow Bastion. As a mere apprentice, I went much farther than my cowardly mentor, King Ansem, ever did. But I am getting ahead of myself. My memory does indeed go all the way back to a very young age, an age when I still had my heart. I was but a lost child who the king took in after … "

'Axel, you owe me _big time_,' Roxas thought, slipping a little lower in his chair as the Superior spoke.

* * *

Despite having thrown poor Roxas to the speech-happy wolf, Axel did have a heart. Well, technically he didn't, but if he did then he'd probably use it to the same effect. He did think it would be too much of a demand to have poor Roxas deal with Xemnas _and_ Saix, so Axel had decided to help the kid out a little. With Roxas being tortured to the brink of insanity by the Superior's life story, Axel thought he'd pay Saix a little visit and see what he could get from the Diviner.

"Nooooo! Why meeeee?" Demyx begged, as he was dragged down the corridor. "Axel, this is so unfair!"

Okay, so _he_ wasn't going to actually do the talking, but at least Axel was looking out for Roxas' best interest.

"Man, talk about chicken with a capital C," he rolled his eyes, gripping Demyx's hood with both hands.

"Then why don't _you_ go to talk to Saix?!"

"Because."

" … Because what?"

"Because I'm your superior."

"That's so totally lame!"

"But it's true."

Besides, it wasn't as if he was putting Demyx in any danger. Yeah, herds of behemoths fled at the sight of Saix, but Demyx had a secret weapon. He just didn't know it, and no one would ever tell him because then they'd never be able to exploit it as effectively and selfishly as they did now.

Demyx was untouchable.

There were no rules that exempted the Nocturne from bodily harm, and it wasn't as though Demyx was _that _good in battle he could fend off anyone. Oh no. The Nocturne's secret weapon was that he was nice. He was just so freakin' nice all the time! They'd tried—oh how they'd tried—to be as mean and nasty to the guy when he first arrived, but, even as heartless beings, they soon discovered that being mean to Demyx was like of kicking a lost, starving puppy who was just trying to be your friend.

And even Larxene, who'd tried to make coats out of a whole batch of puppies, and who bullied little kids just to see them cry, and who once teleported a poor old lady to the middle of nowhere and left her there to starve to death, just to see how long it would take, never found it in her to do so much as even smack Demyx.

The problem was that Demyx didn't take offense. He didn't seek revenge. He didn't plot. He didn't try to blackmail, poison, torture or otherwise make life a living hell for anyone. Demyx, when confronted, would look up with big eyes, his lower lip trembling, and go into an endless pleas for forgiveness, promising that he never meant to do whatever he'd done and that he'd happily take over all the missions and chores for the next month, just to make it up to them.

It was_ no_ fun, getting angry with someone like that. It was impossible!

Several serious attempts had been made to at least punch the guy. In the end, Marluxia managed to deal the worst blow, a very shallow cut to Demyx's arm, but could not muster up the will to continue when IX burst into tears. And to think the pink-haired bastard had had no qualms in trying to take over the Organization …

Anyway, Demyx didn't recognize the golden ticket he had here. Even the Superior would just roll his eyes and wave the Nocturne away whenever Demyx screwed up.

Not even Saix (_Saix!_) could harm Demyx, which was why Axel was now dragging the other behind him as he searched for a certain sitar-smashing, music-intolerant Diviner.

"What am I going to say to him?!" Demyx asked, trying to grab a drape or pillar; anything to anchor himself with. "Axel, you've so got the wrong guy! I'm going to get all tongue-tied and Saix is going to get angry and he'll kill me!"

"Members don't kill each other."

"_You_ killed Vexen!"

"Jeez, are you guys gonna hold thatagainst me forever?"

"But, Axeeeellll, I don't wanna do this!"

"Here we are!" Axel said cheerfully as they turned the corner to find the large doors that led to Saix's chambers.

"I'm gonna die … I'm gonna die … I don't wanna die … I'm gonna die … " Demyx whimpered as he was pushed ahead, towards the doors.

"Remember what I told you," Axel whispered as they approached.

"B-But—"

"And don't give anything away."

"But—"

"And if things start to go bad, by all means, _do_ panic and blubber."

"But—"

"See you in the lounge," Axel smirked and gave the door three solid knocks, which echoed through the silent hall like gunshots.

Before Demyx could even get out another 'But', Axel disappeared in a swirling vortex of darkness, just as the door opened. Glowing yellow eyes glared out of the gloominess of the chamber, and they were fixed squarely on Demyx, who was close to wetting himself.

"Uh …Erm … H-h-h-hey, Saix! H-How y-ya doing?"

Saix was already suspicious. He'd heard VIII's drawling earache of a voice out here, and the fact that the redhead had then buggered off and left one as incompetent as IX behind meant that VIII was up to something he knew would earn him severe pain at Saix's hands. Whatever VIII's plans were, they were bound to piss Saix off, so the coward had sent IX in his place, knowing that, like everyone else, Saix was not inclined to attack IX. He'd been tempted to once, but IX bursting into tears had been enough to snap Saix right out of his Berserker mode.

"What is it?" he asked the Nocturne, who was almost wringing his fingers off his hands.

"Huh? Oh … you see … heh heh … ummm … "

"Has anything been broken?" Saix asked, witling down the possibilities.

"N-n-no … "

"Has anything turned up in an inappropriate place?"

" … No … "

"Has anyone been accidentally banished to another world and you cannot find a way to get them back?"

"No."

"Did you bring that three-headed beast from the Underworld back here?"

"No," Demyx said, fondly remembering Cerberus. That had been a neat pet. Too bad it kept using Marluxia's garden as a doggie litter box. And Cerberus was a _big _dog … Marluxia had been really mad about that: Demyx still had the scar on his arm to prove it.

"Anything relating to heartless?" Saix went on.

"Nope," Demyx said, growing somewhat comfortable with the questions game.

"Anything relating to Kingdom Hearts?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Anything relating to your poor show during missions?"

"Hey, now, that's not true, I—" He gulped when Saix glared. "Uh, no, it's got nothing to do with that. Actually, um, I'm here to … Er … shoot. Hang on." He dug into his pockets and pulled out a slip of paper, the instructions on which he read out loud. "'Engage target in pleasant conversation. Should target fail to respond, coax him out by bringing up Kingdom Hearts.' Okay, I can do that … So … How's it going, Saix?"

"IX, if you have nothing worthwhile to say, go make yourself a nuisance elsewhere."

Demyx quickly consulted his cue card, but that's all the advice he'd been given.

"A-Actually," he said, improvising, "there was something else. What I … Well, what we really want to know is … is everything alright with the Superior?"

Saix notched his head slightly, piqued.

"Why would there be concern for the Superior? He is in no danger."

"No, he isn't, which is a good thing, believe me! We don't want anything bad happening to him at all … but that's why we're kinda worried. Don't you think he's … changed over the past couple of months?"

Saix narrowed his eyes. It sounded to him as though the others were doubting their leader, the one who they were meant to be putting all their hopes and trust in. Why this, all of a sudden? This group conspiracy … This mutiny …

Demyx whimpered when Saix released a very low, very threatening growl.

"He is our Superior, just as he's always been and always will be," Saix said, stepping forward to glare down at the Nocturne. "Do you no longer recognize him as our leader?"

"Wha—No! No, no, no, no!" Demyx said, waving his hands. "That's not it at all! Just … Oh man, I'm so bad at this … Er, I didn't mean … We _want_ him as our leader. He brought us all together and gave us a purpose and thanks to him we might get our hearts back. We wouldn't want to replace him, period. Honest! But that's why we were also thinking that … Don't you think that, ever since the whole Castle Oblivion thing, the Superior is … I don't know … not the same Superior he was before Castle Oblivion?"

Saix stepped back, not much appeased but more thoughtful. When he looked Demyx in the eyes, though, the other visible shivered.

"_Everything_ changed after the failure of Castle Oblivion. The Superior sent XI and XII there for the exact purpose to keep them away from operations here. Having suffered such a blatant betrayal, can you blame the Superior for being more cautious?"

"Not really, but the chores and missions we've been getting ever since—"

"The Superior is risking what little he has left to complete Kingdom Hearts," Saix hissed, grabbing Demyx by the drawstrings of his coat, bringing the other in dangerous proximity of his fangs. "He did not have to take in us neophytes, nor waste precious time training us, teaching us, but he did, and he continues to do so. Without him, we will eventually fade back into darkness and truly become nobodies. Without him, we will never regain our hearts. In return, the least we can do for him is follow his orders without complaint and contribute what we can to our goal. Now, if you cannot do something as simple as that then you are nothing but a freeloader and a liability, and you know I do _not_ tolerate liabilities."

Sweating, Demyx nodded, and was released with a shove.

"And tell VIII that the next time he wants to tell me something, he tells it to my face," Saix said, "instead of sending his lapdog to take the blame."

Saix then slammed the door in the other's face. His fine hearing heard the retreat of clumsy feet as IX stumbled away. Once he was certain the other was gone, though, Saix sighed, leaning with his back against the door.

He did not doubt the Superior. He did _not_. Not after all the Superior had done for him. He would never follow another; never pledge his allegiance to anyone but Number I. The Superior had answers to questions no one even knew to ask, and already he had achieved so much, despite having started from nothing, as nothing. Without fail, Saix would dispose of anyone who threatened the Superior, even if it meant a further reduction of their numbers.

Why … ? Why couldn't the others see that? Surely, II and III had enough sense and faith in their leader to know as well as Saix that they would succeed. They'd finish what was started years ago, and then …

Saix walked over to the window and looked up at the heart-shaped moon hovering behind thin clouds. Its pale yellow magnificence sang to him, louder and more beautiful than any other moon. There was the Superior's promise. It was right there for all to see … yet still beyond reach.

'One day,' Saix thought, longingly staring at Kingdom Hearts. 'One day, I will get my heart back. One day, I will be free from the darkness, and I will bask in the light of the moon once more … '

* * *

"Hey, lil' dude, how'd it go?"

Roxas, still trying to shake off his lethargy, almost lost his balance as he looked up at where Xigbar was strolling across the ceiling. Directly below the Freeshooter, Xaldin had finally gotten a chance to play a 'real' card game with Luxord while Axel watched the Lancer's slow and agonizing defeat from the comfort of the couch. Roxas dropped down next to Axel, still in a blurry trance.

"Radiant Garden … Heartless … ice cream … Ansem Reports … basement … secrets … explosion … "

"Gave you the whole background story, did he?" Xigbar laughed, jumping down to lean against the back of the couch, grinning at the dazed teen. "I'd feel sorry for ya, but better you than me."

"… Talking mouse … worlds … Gummi ships … dark portals … research … illusions … "

"Hey, snap out of it," Axel said, shaking the other's shoulder.

"Long speech … Wouldn't stop talking … Couldn't fall asleep … Always watching me … "

"You'll get used to it," Axel assured. "Next time—"

"Next time?!" Roxas snapped out of his stupor. "There's no way I'm doing that again!"

"Look, the worst is behind you now. The Origin Story is the worst; the rest is bearable." Axel said, grinning along with Xigbar, tempting Roxas to smother them both with a cushion. "At least now we know you can approach him. And once Demyx … "

The name had barely left Axel's lips and Demyx dragged himself into the room, supporting himself with a hand on the wall. With uneasy shuffles, he made it to the couch and collapsed on Axel's other side.

"You left me," was all he could say to Axel. "You left me there to die."

"You made it out in one piece."

"Barely! He almost ripped my face off just because I said we were worried about the Superior!"

"Perfect."

"Perfect?" Roxas asked, wondering what it would be like to see into Saix's head.

Scary, was the first thing that came to mind.

"Saix's a psychiatrist's worst nightmare, but he ain't stupid. When it comes to the Superior, he's pretty predictable: he's protective. Must be some doggie instinct he brought over from his other life, but now that he knows that some of us are beginning to question the Superior's actions, he's going to keep a closer eye on the Superior to make sure we don't try anything funny. I think it's time we gave the two of them some alone time," Axel said, standing. He began pacing the length of the couch while Xigbar copied him, pacing the ceiling directly above him.

"But they're alone most of the time," Demyx said, only just starting to get his shaking under control.

"He means alone together," Luxord explained, shuffling the cards fancily.

"A mission is as good a chance as any," Xaldin said, contributing his first useful idea for the day.

"And who, exactly, has the power to send the Superior on a mission?"

"No, Xaldin's on the right track," Axel said, green eyes filled with blinding glee. "We can't send him on a mission … but he can send himself on one!"

"And coincidentally pick Saix to go with him? Not even Luxord could guess the chances of that happening," Roxas said, quickly looking over to the Gambler, lest he'd offended the man. But Luxord was pensive.

"Perhaps … " he said, ice blue eyes studying his cards on the table before him. He picked up the king of hearts. "One can never give a king orders. If he wishes something to be done he has his subordinates do it for him. However … " He put down the king and with a swipe of his hand removed every other card from the table. "If there is no one available to carry out his orders, he will be forced to do them himself."

"So … we have the disappear?" Demyx asked, sharing wary looks with Roxas.

A grin so sly graced Axel's face that one would think him to have been possessed by a demon.

"Nah," he said silkily, "we can't just abandon this place. However … any of you ever heard of a little thing called 'group hangover'?"

Tbc …

* * *

Read & Review, please.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

* * *

Just as there was a time and place for everything, there was also a cause and repercussion for nothing, including Nobodies. And it hadn't taken Roxas too long to noticed that, when certain nobodies said certain things, certain measures had to be taken if one wanted to avoid certain repercussions. Certain measures being, of course, running.

When were such drastic measures needed?

When Luxord said: "Strip poker, anyone?"

Or when Xigbar said: "Betcha I can shoot the Superior's hood right off his head!"

Or when Demyx said: "Hey, look what followed me home!"

Or when Xaldin said: " … Oh …shit."

Or when Saix said: "Grrrrr!"

And anytime the Superior said: "I have something to say…"

All were solid hints that a brisk sprint to a remote location was well overdue.

Even then, none made Roxas more uneasy than:

"Aw, come on, Roxas, _trust me_!"

A vicious shiver almost made Roxas drop the drinking glasses. Instincts begged him to make a break for it, but he couldn't abandon the plan now. So instead, he tried to ignore Axel, who was about as easy to ignore as a behemoth that had just fallen on top of you.

"You're just jealous that I ripped off your idea and made it even better than before."

"It was a stupid idea to begin with," Roxas said, freezing when the stack of glasses leaned dangerously to one side. "I don't want any credit for it at all."

"You kidding me? It's genius! Not even Marluxia could have dreamed up such a plan."

"And look what happened to _him_, thanks to the plan he did come up with."

Axel frowned, noticing how sour a mood Roxas was in. But he didn't sympathize with him. The smug grin making itself at home on Axel's face made Roxas hate his best friend even more; so much so that he considered finding a new best friend. That potted plant over there looked friendly enough …

"You're just angry because you're too young to drink," Axel said.

"Am not!"

Actually, he was. Put off because he'd been banned from drinking with the others, that is. Just because he was the youngest didn't mean he was too young to drink. Heck, he barely even existed! Did Nobodies even have age; did they age? If they were teetering on the brink of existence—not dead despite having 'died', yet not living either—did numbers and age mean anything to them? Roxas didn't think so.

"While you all are having fun, I'll be stuck explaining why none of you can even stand to the Superior," Roxas said. "That's, like, double the punishment."

"Well, someone's gotta do it. Of course, you'll have to do it perfectly, or else the Superior will suspect something's up and then the whole master plan will be screwed and we'll all suffer for the rest of our existence." Axel slapped Roxas on a shoulder. "So, no pressure, eh?"

"None whatsoever," Roxas said with a clenched jaw. "I'm so grateful for your faith in me."

"Oh, you'll be thanking me, alright, once we get those two shacked up and off our backs." Axel grinned devilishly. "Or, should I say, once the Superior gets Saix's on his back … "

"Do you actual _enjoy_ thinking about that? You're a perv!"

"Am not!" Axel immediately denied.

"Are too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Not."

"Too."

" … Shrimp."

"Hey!"

Axel turned away from his fuming friend to knock on the lounge doors, which were closed, which was highly unusual, but it was all part of the secretive nature of the master plan. Oh, not that the Superior or Saix couldn't just _teleport_ anywhere they damn well pleased. Nope. That thought never crossed Axel's mind when he was brainstorming. Purely out of spite, a tiny part of Roxas actually wanted them to get caught; just so that he could rub it in the other's face.

Axel made a series of quick taps of the door.

"Remind me to teach you our secret knock," he said, ignoring his friend's millionth eye roll.

There was a shuffle, the door creaked open slightly and a blue eye peeked out before the door was swung open.

"Gentlemen," Luxord said, waving them in, in a very good mood. "Come in and make yourselves comfortable."

Roxas was at least grateful that they hadn't tasked him with lugging down the barrels of rum. Xaldin was rotating his shoulder, trying to work out the stiffness from carting his barrels all the way down from Luxord's Hidden Room Of Goods Not Approved Of By The Superior (the stash room, for short). Xigbar looked as fresh as a daisy: he must have simply used his powers over gravity to transport his share of the barrels.

Hindsight: Xaldin could have used his wind powers to make his load lighter.

Axel was on the same wavelength as Roxas.

"Yo, why didn't you just blow those things down here?" Axel asked the Lancer, plopping down on the couch where Demyx sat looking very nervously at Xigbar, who was on one of the barrels, tinkering with his guns.

"Unlike you lightweights," Xaldin grunted, casting a pointed look at Xigbar, who blew a kiss his way, "I don't need to rely on my powers for everything."

"Whatever," Xigbar snorted, cocking the gun with a satisfying click. "You're just bummed out because you didn't even _think_ of it. As I was saying before, why don't we make things interesting and have a little round of Dead Man's Roulette* while we're at it?"

Which explained why Demyx was shaking in his boots.

"H-Hey, maybe I should sit this one out. You know, I get woozy pretty quickly and—"

"All the better," Luxord said, pouring the first glass and passing it to Xaldin. "The drunker we are, the more useless we'll be."

"Not that you need any help with that," Xaldin snidely said to Demyx.

Demyx looked like he was about to cry. If the guy was this emotional _without_ a heart …

"That was uncalled for. And hangovers never last more than a day," he said. "What if there aren't any missions planned for today? What if, like, he needs us tomorrow. What then?!"

"Then we'll just keep drinking until the time for a mission comes, dude," Xigbar said, hopping off the barrel to take a glass from Luxord. "We hid a couple more barrels in Luxord's room, so we can reload if our systems start to run dry. Lil' dude, you clear on what you have to do?"

"Yes," Roxas sighed, staring at the glasses held in the gloved hands. Only Demyx looked about as miserable as he was as the Nocturne timidly sniffed the drink, scrunching his nose at the strong smell.

"Then, gentlemen," Luxord smiled, raising his glass. "Let us begin. To what shall we toast?"

"To freedom!" Axel said.

"To freedom!" Luxord agreed.

"To freedom!" Xigbar shouted, throwing back his head and emptying his glass before the others had even raised theirs to their lips.

"To an early grave!" Xaldin said, no more convinced that this would work, but not one to walk away from free drinks.

"We're going to be in _so_ much trouble!" Demyx said nervously. Clenching his eyes shut and pinching his nose, he took a mouthful.

As the others began downing glasses upon glasses of liquor, Roxas, leaning against the wall, sighed and wondered how marvellously simple the life of a Dusk must be.

* * *

It was hard to know what to expect from nothing, since nothing had no substance or form. Something, which did, could be viewed and studied, but nothing wasn't visible, because it wasn't there. Unless, of course, nothing actually was something, just not visible or tangible. After all, nothing could very well be an umbrella term for everything that no one could see or understand; it wasn't uncommon for mankind to dismiss something as nothing when it could be just about anything. It was said that nothing was said to be certain, yet whether that included solid nothingness, which went against everything nothing stood for, had never been considered.

Which was all good and irrelevant, but it was safe to say that Xemnas had come to expect some things from his fellow Nobodies, and this was not something he thought capable of a bunch of talking nothings.

Standing in the doorway, Xemnas stared at the figures swaying before him like overgrown Dusks.

Ditzy, hiccoughing, giggling dusks.

He'd never, in this life and the one before, ever heard Xaldin giggle, and quickly decided he never wanted to hear that sound again. Demyx was trying to go somewhere, but failed to notice the large couch until he walked right into it, flipping over the back and falling onto the floor, where he erupted in high giggles while Axel pointed—though being so drunk he ended up pointing in the wrong opposite direction—and laughed as well, green eyes crossed. Xigbar and Luxord were singing the eviscerated lyrics of what might have once been a decent song, but could only manage to get the 'Yo ho, yo ho' parts right.

Xemnas was getting eye strain just trying to keep track of their every move so he turned to the only other stationary being in the room.

"Explain," he commanded.

"Um … " Roxas squirmed. To say the Superior was unimpressed was a monumental understatement. "Er … it's like this … Luxord challenged everyone to a … er, drinking game and … well … this happened."

Xemnas found the explanation to be lacking.

It was no secret that Luxord was a compulsive hoarder of otherworldly liquors, and—contrary to popular belief—Xemnas was very much aware of the 'secret' storage room filled with large barrels: he just didn't care what they hid in there, so long it didn't have a mind of its own and its own the means of transportation.

Everyone knew that Xigbar was a thrill seeker. If it promised danger or extreme complications, he'd do it.

Xaldin never turned down a challenge; his pride wouldn't let him.

Axel … was Axel.

And Demyx would put his trust in a carrot.

So, Xemnas found that Roxas' account was acceptable to a degree, but it still did not explain why his underlings would drink themselves stupid on such a random occasion.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" Xemnas asked them, hoping for an answer but not expecting a straight one.

"Aw, now," Xigbar grinned, teetering to his feet, "Nuthin' to say, eh? Just a lil' fun!"

"Hey!" Demyx shouted, and everyone turned to him, but all he did was fall back on his back, snoring.

If it weren't for the fact that the emergency meeting he'd scheduled had been conceived but fifteen minutes ago, Xemnas would have thought that they'd purposefully gone and made themselves useless just to avoid attendance. Seconds after he'd sent out the notice, Roxas had appeared before him, asking him to come along as there was a little 'situation' in the lounge.

A situation, in the past, had been Xaldin threatening Demyx, or a black hole minding its own business in the middle of the courtyard, or dragon and its fire happily eating away at their fortress: things that they, as powerful Nobodies, could deal with.

Now, however, the problem were the Nobodies themselves. And the only ones left to deal with the drunkards were Xemnas himself, Roxas and …

As though summoned by Xemnas' thoughts, a portal bloomed open and Saix stepped out.

"Sir, you called us … " He couldn't finish as he took in the sad sight of his comrades stumbling and tripping about.

Saix usual stoic composure stemmed from the fact that few things could actually faze him. Seeing Xigbar and Xaldin trying to belly dance to Axel's offbeat drumming did faze him; disturbed him greatly, even.

"Hiya, Saix!" Axel hollered, as if they were on separate ends of the universe. He tried to give the Diviner a thumbs up and almost fell flat on his face. "Lookin' good, all four of you! … Four? No, eight! … No, four! … Noooooo … Arg! Stand still! I can't count ya if your keep jiggling like that!"

"What is wrong with them, sir?" Saix asked the Superior, since it appeared the other was waiting for him to do so.

"Isn't it obvious?" Xemnas snapped, glad to have someone to rant to who'd actually understand what he was saying. "They decided to have a little drinking party."

"Is it possible for a Nobody to become drunk?"

"It has never happened before," Xemnas said slowly, taking a moment to approach the question from a scientific perspective. "We are but shells of our former selves … Yet, we are just that: bodies, and we retained all bodily functions … and it is the physical body that is so susceptible to the workings of alcohol … "

"Aw, yur all pansies," Xigbar drawled, weaving towards them as if he were onboard a ship caught in a storm. Halfway across the room he changed his mind and wobbled back to almost collapse in Demyx' lap. "Join us! Plenty to go 'round!"

"We'd rather not, Xigbar," Xemnas said, frowning at his grinning second-in-command. "You've all had enough."

"A man's tolerance is … is … " Luxord couldn't even finish his otherwise rational sentence, lounging across an armchair with bottle of rum dangling from one hand. "My, those trains sure are loud!"

"SHH!" Xaldin hushed them all.

Silence …

" … The walls are listening," the Lancer said conspiringly, and broke down into the highest giggles any of them had ever heard, which tickled the rest into laughing along with him.

Saix wasn't one for asking useless questions, but the heavy silence that hung between him and the Superior forced him to try and elicit some sort of response out of the other.

"Now what?" he asked, noting that the question had to be the most ineloquent one he'd ever directed towards their leader.

"They are no use to me like this," Xemnas said, watching Demyx stare at his own wriggling fingers in wide eyed wonder. "I wouldn't trust them to make it through a Corridor of Darkness unharmed, let alone go on a mission. Nothing can be done until they've sobered up. Which would put me behind my schedule, though. There are a few documents in Hollow Bastion that I will need before I can continue my work."

"I can retrieve them for you, sir."

"You're not suitable for the task," Xemnas said bluntly, pondering his options.

"If it is a matter of privacy, sir, I—" Saix started, rather stunned by the dismissive reaction.

"I do not doubt your trustworthiness," Xemnas said. "But to find those documents you have to know every corridor, lift and stairway in that fortress, and the exact locations of the rooms where the documents should be. You would have to leaf through the documents to verify whether they are the ones I need, and I'd rather their content remain classified until I am ready to report my findings. And since I cannot disclose the nature of those documents just yet, you wouldn't know what you're looking for, even if you managed to find the rooms. Xigbar and Xaldin are the only two who know the Bastion as well as myself, and they know the documents I speak of. But right now they're unable to even find their way out of this room unaided."

Saix was quiet. It was unheard of, him not being of any use to the Superior. To not be able to serve the one being who could give him his heart back left him feeling as useless as the drunk fools parading around before them. In return for his heart, he was willing to do anything; to put up with anything; to suffer through anything. He'd search that castle for days, weeks, months; as long as it took, if it were to further their cause.

It was a dent in his pride, but Saix did not argue any further. If the Superior didn't want him for the mission, then he would respect the decision.

"Should I reschedule it then for a later date, when II and III are capable of controlling their own two legs?" Saix asked.

Xemnas sighed, rubbing his chin.

"I need those documents as soon as possible."

While the Superior thought, solution, Saix met eyes with XIII, who was standing on the Superior's other side. He'd been well aware of the boy's presence, but had ignored it in favour of the Superior's. Such a strange one, XIII. Saix had watched the latest recruit closely, from a distance, when the Superior had brought him back to the castle. Despite the Superior's high level of interest and enthusiasm, so far the boy had shown no extraordinary power other than being capable of wielding dual keyblades. Their newest member was mature and obedient (unlike the vile XI and XII), and there was more than enough room for growth potential, but all in all XIII had failed to hold Saix's interest for long.

'Please don't eat me, please don't eat me, please don't eat me … ' Roxas chanted, trying to keep up the smile under the sharp eyes. He breathed out loudly when the Superior snapped out of his thoughts, effectively reclaiming Saix's full attention.

"I cannot do without those documents for much longer. I will go for them myself," Xemnas decided, unaware of the staring contest that had been going on. "You'll come with me, Saix, for security measures."

"Yes, sir."

Secretly, Roxas felt a spark of hope. It had worked. The Superior and Saix were going off on their own. Axel's plan had actually worked!

Behind their backs, the tipsy members exchanged high fives. Or tried to. Axel ended up smacking Xigbar in the forehead and Xaldin missed Axel's hand completely and fell right onto Luxord. Demyx slept on.

"And you will be joining us, Roxas."

The silent celebration between the rest came to a stuttering halt.

Roxas felt his smile melt away.

"Oh? … er," he said, screaming on the inside at the thought of being stuck with both the Superior and Saix. "Wouldn't it be better if I stayed here while you're away and make sure no one falls out a window, sir?"

"If they do then they'd be well deserving of it," the Superior said curtly.

"Sir?" Saix simply asked, also not understanding the need to have XIII join them.

It didn't sound like a dangerous mission. The Superior, being as powerful as he was, didn't actually need Saix there to protect him, but it was Organization standards to carry out missions in dangerous areas in pairs, so that at least one could be on look out for enemies while the other focussed on the actual mission itself. Bringing along XIII, however, was redundant, as they did not need the boy's fighting prowess, nor his input on anything. Having him with them would be no more than …babysitting him.

"You will both accompany me to the Bastion. That is an order," Xemnas said, giving the both of them a look that forbid any further discussion.

Saix nodded as Roxas, with much hesitancy, bowed in agreement.

"The rest of you," Xemnas turned back to the other five. "Go to your rooms and stay there until we return. Any damage done to the castle, or to each other, during my absence will not be tolerated. Am I understood?"

"Yup!" Xigbar saluted, though he was facing the other way, talking to a pillar.

"Roxas," Xemnas said, "see your colleagues to their rooms. Saix, fortify the barrier around the castle; summon your Berserker Nobodies to stand guard. With the two of us gone, and the rest indisposed, opportunistic Heartless might attempt to enter the castle while its defence is down. Then, both of you meet me at the Alter of Naught."

The Superior then vanished in a fountain of darkness. Saix followed suit, disappearing through another tunnel. Once they were both gone, Roxas hunched over, hands on his knees as he tried to get his breathing under control.

An arm was flung over his shoulder and the pungent reek of rum assailed his nose.

"Yesh!" Axel slurred, almost dragging Roxas down with him as he struggled to stand. "You duh man!"

"You idiot! The plan backfired," Roxas said, grabbing onto Axel when the redhead's knees threatened to buckle again. "It was supposed to be just the two of them. What am I going to do there? What if I say something and give us away? This wasn't part of the plan!"

"Nah … Hadn't thought o' that either … but now … um … My head hurts."

"You can now keep an eye on them," Luxord said brightly. The rum he was supposed to be pouring into his glass was missing the mark entirely, splashing instead on Demyx's head and plastering his hair to his face, but the Nocturne slept on, unaware. "Make sure things run smoothly and—Damn those trains! I can't hear myself think!"

His colleagues were starting to freak him out, admittedly, especially Xigbar, who had conjured up his guns and was trying to line up a shot, aiming for the glass Xaldin had balanced on Demyx's head. Slumped against Roxas, Axel was humming a lullaby that included the words 'whore', 'spatula' and 'gerbil'.

"You know," Roxas grunted, struggling to drag Axel along, "I'm beginning to think that scrubbing floors is a lot less work than playing matchmaker."

"I'm gonna meet someone," Axel said, growing increasingly heavy.

"Who?"

"Mr Floor."

And down he went like a sack of potatoes, and Roxas, going down with him, got to meet Mr Floor as well. Trapped beneath his friend, Roxas groaned in exasperation, wishing he had it in him to smash his own head against the floor and just end it all.

"How'd Floor get aaaaalllll duh way up der'?" Axel frowned, staring up at the ceiling with dazed eyes. Then he giggled. "He fell too?"

Roxas hoped that the Superior wasn't in too much of a hurry, because this was going to take a while. The sounds of gunshots and surprised shrieks back in the lounge spurred him to his feet.

"I'm never going to trust you again. Ever," he growled at the redhead.

"Mmm, me neither … " Axel muttered, rolling off Roxas and onto the floor. "Stupid you did, huh?"

"Bet I can shoot 'is hood off!" Xigbar laughed from inside, followed by Demyx screaming in terror.

"Yeah, really stupid," Roxas said, just about to push himself up when a hand grabbed him by the elbow.

"Real nice o' ya," Axel muttered. "Guess that's why I like ya so much. Like, really, really, really, really like ya, ya know?" He snickered, motioning for Roxas to come closer. He whispered. "Shhh! It's a secret, 'kay?"

"O-kay … "

Roxas stared at him, but Axel was soon caught up in angry discussion with a little man he called Merton on his left shoulder.

"What, Merton? Nah! I can tell'im. Roxas won't tell nobody! He knows itsa secret. Shhhh…Wha? No! Am not gonna tell'im _that_!"

"Tell me what?"

All Axel did was grin at his stupidly, tried to blink, lost interest midway through the action and promptly fell asleep on the white tiles.

Sitting on the floor in the hall with his smashed best friend, the echoes of chaos raging behind him in the lounge, a snappy Superior and one berserker waiting on him above in the Alter of Naught, Roxas … laughed. He didn't know why. Maybe he was losing it.

"Maybe it's better if I stop trying to understand you guys," he told to Axel, ruffling the spiky red hair.

Axel grumbled something in his sleep that sounded like "King mouse stole my munny" and turned over.

Tbc …

* * *

A/N: Is that an AkuRoku pairing rearing its teeny-tiny yaoi head? Perhaps… Shit, I'm feeling generous. A couple other pairings might crop up in the future. Who knows. I'm just making it up as I go along, as always.

Dead Man's Roulette*: Russian Roulette, of course, but with a twist.

Read & Review, please.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

* * *

Roxas gaped at the twisting towers and turrets that slowly rose above the edge of the Rising Falls as they rushed up the invisible path among the large, floating rocks. The roar of the unusual waterfalls was deafening, and the mist that descended from their tops (or were those considered the bottom of the falls?) was cold, but Roxas was too entranced with this new world to be discomforted by its overwhelming dynamics. As they reached the solid stone platform at the very top, which was scattered with bits of ruins, the Superior raised a hand, signalling an immediate halt.

Hollow Bastion stood high and proud on the other side of an immense canyon. Built on a dangerously small foundation above spiky blue rocks and water, it's structure, with all its twists and bends, boldly defied every law of physics. Even from this distance, Roxas could see blue and red lines of sparks winding their way over and around balconies and walls while soft columns of purple smoke or steam rose from old chimneys and massive brass pipes. Despite the eclectic mesh of pieces, the Bastion was one solid, formidable fortress.

"Doesn't anyone live there?" Roxas asked, finding it hard to believe that such a impressive place could have gone uninhabited for so long.

He turned to the Superior and was at first surprised that the man was regarding the Bastion with such an unimpressed look. Once the wonder wore off, he remembered that, for the Superior, this place held a whole other meaning, and not a good one. Roxas was about to withdraw his question, but the Superior finally answered it.

"When the Bastion fell to the darkness, so did the rest of this world," he said, staring upon his former home with nothing more than detachment. "Radiant Garden is slowly rebuilding itself, but the Bastion remains a place of taboo and much fear."

Roxas jumped when something growled softly on the Superior's other side. Saix hadn't spoken a word since arriving in this world, as per usual, and had taken up the rear of their small party, allowing the Superior and Roxas to run ahead while he kept an eye out for anything trailing behind them. Since the Superior had briefed them both on the layout of their destination before leaving The World That Never Was, Roxas could only assume that Saix had never been to the Bastion either.

But Saix was too focussed on his role in this mission to take in the breathtaking sights. Having ascertained that nothing would be ambushing them, the Diviner was staring straight ahead, up at the dark forms that were lazily circling the towers.

"Heartless," he said needlessly, as if subtly hinting that he wouldn't turn down an order to destroy them.

"The Heartless shouldn't pose much threat to us," the Superior said, leading them towards the crumbling edge. "We have nothing they want, though the Wyverns and Defenders may just challenge us over territorial disputes. Roxas, unless our opponents are the weaker Shadows or Darkballs, you will not fight."

"Yes, sir," Roxas said, although put off that he was still being treated as a child.

He put those feelings aside to make room for some anxiety as the edge of the platform came closer and closer, with no visible way of crossing in sight. How did the Superior intend to get all the way to the Bastion from here?

"Shouldn't we have used the Corridors of Darkness to reach the Bastion, Superior?" he asked when they were just a few feet from the edge.

"That would not only alert the Heartless of our arrival, but incite them as well," the Superior said. "They may not be too big a threat, but I don't want to waste time battling Heartless. All I need are those documents. That's our main objective."

"But, sir … " Roxas didn't know the full extent of the Superior's powers, but he did know that Xigbar was the only Organization member who had powers over gravity in most situations. "Sir, there's no bridge!"

Too late.

The Superior disappeared! Had he fallen? Confused and panicked, Roxas turned to Saix, but at the unconcerned look on the man's scarred face Roxas looked back. There was the Superior, standing whole and unharmed, several metres from the edge, on a round contraption that hung from a thick cable of crackling electricity.

"You didn't expect us to fly, did you, Roxas?" the Superior asked, permitting himself a tiny smirk at Roxas' stunned expression. "Come, the both of you. Even this manner of transportation will not go unnoticed for long."

Saix didn't hesitate. Blindly trusting their leader, he took a step forward, and the next one would have his foot land on nothing but air. This time, though, Roxas saw the dull flash enveloped the black-clad body and Saix was gone, reappearing next to the Superior on the lift. Both now waited on him as Roxas peered over the edge. Yeah, that was definitely a long way down.

"Just … walk?" he asked.

"Just walk," the Superior confirmed.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Roxas took one step at a time, waiting to feel air beneath his foot. One step, then another, then another, then—

"You can open your eyes," the Superior's voice said from right next to him.

There lift was made from steel pipes and crystal supports, much like the Bastion itself, and it had no obvious means of controls. There were no buttons or levers or wheels. All there was, except for them, was a crystal balanced on a pedestal in the centre of the floor.

"Oh. That was easy," Roxas said, feeling foolish to have made such a big deal out of nothing.

"You'd be surprised how uncomplicated things can be," the Superior said. He touched the spiky crystal and it changed colour, somehow prompting the contraption to move along the energy cable, which lead directly to the Bastion.

Out of nowhere, Roxas felt a sudden and weird jolt of recognition. He frowned as he studied the lift, the way it moved, and the sight of the Bastion drawing nearer.

"This … feels familiar," he said. "I think … I've been here before. In another life … "

He thought he saw something change in the Superior's countenance, but it could very well just be the shifting sunlight playing across the other's face. When the Superior answered, his voice was as calm and neutral as always.

"It is highly improbable that you'd remember anything from your past. Though we have yet to understand why, you neophytes were truly reborn: returned to existence as completely new beings with no connections to your pasts. You were found in Twilight Town, and chances are very high that your heart was originally from there."

"Where were the others neophytes found?" Roxas asked, appeased that, given the current situation, it was safe to assume that the Superior would not have the mind—and time—to go off on one of his lengthy tales. "Also in Twilight Town?"

"You were an exception," Xemnas said, almost proudly. "All Neophytes were first 'born' in the World That Never Was. Their origins are difficult to trace, though, of course, there are strong indications, based on their powers and traits."

"Axel insists that Demyx was once a merman, because of his water-based powers and the fact that Atlantica is his favourite world," Roxas said after giving it some thought. Axel had spent most of a day (or night, as there was no day back home) coming up with charts and lists to prove his theories, much to Roxas' surprise, for Axel wasn't renowned for his love of research, which he found dull, time-consuming and irrelevant.

("Just like Vexen," Axel always said.)

"Perhaps," was all the Superior said.

"He also thinks that Luxord once ran a gambling house in Port Royal. And that Marluxia was from Wonderland and owned the Cheshire Cat. And that Saix … " Roxas shut himself up, but he couldn't stop his eyes from straying to Saix, hoping the other was still ignoring him. Unfortunately, the Berserker had been drawn away from Heartless-gazing at the sound of his name.

"What of me?" he asked, fell yellow eyes slightly narrowed.

'Damn you, Axel! You're not even here and you still manage to get me into more trouble,' Roxas thought, sticking close to the Superior as he answered the question. "Axel just said … Well, we all kinda agreed, but Axel said … that … Because of your moon powers and … certain features … Axel believes that you're from Halloween Town."

Roxas braced himself, and prayed that the Superior would not let too much harm come to him, but if the theory offended Saix the Diviner did not show it. He almost seemed to consider it, though with Saix it was always difficult to tell what he was thinking.

"That was IV's first assessment as well," Saix said with a small nod, then lost interest in the conversation all over again and went back to Heartless-gazing.

"Vexen had a fair share of theories when Xigbar returned with you," the Superior said, studying Saix as if he'd never seen him before. "His most ambitious claim was that you were a lycanthrope."

"A what?" Roxas asked.

"A werewolf."

"Really? But is that possible? I thought only humans could become Nobodies."

"We may never know," the Superior said. "There were several discrepancies in that theory, and very little proof to support it other than, as you mentioned, Saix's powers. His fangs and hair aside, however, his appearance is not that remarkable: he and Xigbar both have yellow eyes and pointed ears, which could simply be side effects of the transformation from human to Heartless. We _all _underwent physical changes. Myself and the first five almost didn't recognize each other when we first awoken in The World That Never Was. We'd never seen anything like our new selves."

"What did you think when you first laid eyes on Saix, sir?"

… Oh, _that _was smooth. Roxas would have slapped his forehead if he didn't have two pairs of eyes staring at him; Saix, once more reacting to his name, and the Superior, awaiting a sound explanation. Roxas pretended to find a really fascinating rock amongst the hundreds that littered the canyon below.

"I mean … It must have been a surprise, finding another Nobody when the six of you thought you were the only ones. Were you suspicious, or glad that there were others?"

Unbelievably, hanging around Axel did have its advantages: he was a much better liar then when he first joined the Organization. The Superior still looked suspicious, but he eventually bought the excuse.

"Of course we were curious. When our Dusks reported the presence of a new powerful Nobody roaming The Dark City we immediately took action to track down. Only, some of us had underestimated this one's strength and adaptability," the Superior said. "Which led to a bloody showdown." Fact: when the Superior smiled it was hardly ever a comforting thing. "Ever wondered why Xigbar wears an eye patch?"

The first thing one ever wondered upon seeing Xigbar was what kind of hideous fight he'd been through. Roxas had once asked the Freeshooter about it, but Xigbar had just grinned his Devil-may-care grin and skirted around the topic long enough to throw Roxas off.

"Did he and Saix … " Roxas gulped.

"How long did the fight last?" the Superior asked Saix. "An hour?"

"55 minutes, to be exact, sir. II was reluctant to use his weapons against me, as he wanted me alive, and, in the end, he defeated me." Saix held up his hand, admiring it as if the fight was taking place in his palm. "No other opponent has ever lasted that long against me since."

"Had it not been for your weakened new state, you would have undoubtedly triumphed in that battle," the Superior told the Diviner, who accepted the appraisal with a humble nod. "Compared to the deciding but single strike to your chest Xigbar managed, the injuries you inflicted on him would have killed him had you been in top condition, as you are today."

"I misdirected my aggression to a loyal member," Saix said. "If only I had been as quick to attack XI upon his arrival, his treachery would have never been able to threaten the Organization's unity."

"Marluxia was not your responsibility," the Superior said, and Roxas imagined that, were the Superior a more emotional and open man, he would have said more, but he didn't.

No more questions could be asked, though, when the contraption came to an abrupt halt, almost throwing Roxas off his feet. Before he could even ask how they'd get off, the contraption's mysterious magic teleported them to the nearest solid ground, which looked to be the main terrace. The silence, the decay and the size welcomed them with an ominous grudge. Above the towering front doors was a giant Heartless-like emblem; a grim reminder of who now ran the castle, which, this close, was no longer as captivatingly beautiful.

Instinctively, the three of them stood back to back and scanned the area for hidden dangers. Saix was the first to straighten, a good enough indication for the other two that the coast was clear, though the yellow eyes were continuously flitting from one corner to the next, ever vigilant.

"Sir?" Roxas asked softly.

The Superior had been staring at the front gates, lost in his inscrutable thoughts, but snapped to with a blink of his eyes.

"Stay on your guard," he said, and lead the way.

Roxas looked up, surprised at the sudden tenseness in the deep voice. He had come to understand that, having lost his heart, the Superior no longer felt anything for his former home, so this sudden show of bridled aggravation surprised him. Was it his inability to feel anything for this place, or indeed lingering feelings that was affecting the Superior?

Roxas said nothing and hurried along, with Saix taking up the rear once more.

Opening the front doors would attract attention, so the Superior let them in through a smaller, less noticeable side entrance, but once within the spacious front hall Roxas felt yet another strong pull in his chest; the same as he'd felt out on the contraption. As he took in the wide staircase, the graceful arches, the great chandelier, he couldn't help but doubt the Superior's earlier dismissal. He didn't want to believe that the Superior had lied to him, so he reckoned that the Superior, having admitted to not knowing much about neophytes, was simply mistaken. But Roxas was sure that he _had _been here, in this hall before. The floor … those walls … that ceiling … that stairwell … And he hadn't been alone either … But who had been there with him then … ? How many … ? Two … ?

Honestly troubled by the scattered thoughts, Roxas dismissed them altogether, telling himself that, true or false, they were only distracting him from their mission.

They travelled soundlessly and swiftly for such a long time Roxas started when Saix, triggered by a shift in the air only he could detect with his sharp senses, summoned his claymore. The Superior looked over his shoulder, but didn't stop. Whatever had been following them, the sight of Saix's weapon was enough to keep it at bay, or perhaps even flee. Still, Saix held onto his weapon from then on as they moved through the seemingly endless and aimless corridors, walkways and stairs.

Finally, at the top of what had to be the longest stairwell ever built, the Superior stopped. Roxas peeked around him to find the most unimportant, ordinary door in perhaps the entire Bastion. Thinking they still had some way to go, he was proven wrong when the Superior gave him a sharp look that demanded nothing but complete obedience.

"Roxas, wait here. We have given the Defender that was following us the slip, and this is area is not easily accessible by Heartless, but stay alert."

Roxas nodded, though he wasn't happy with having been led all the way here, only to be left on guard duty. Regardless, he stepped aside, leaning against the wall to watch the Superior hold out his palm to the keyhole. With a loud click, the handle turned, beckoning the two older Nobodies into the darkness that lurked beyond it. The Superior, knowing what to expect, went through with little hesitation. Saix, not knowing what to expect but never one to doubt their leader, followed with as much intent.

The door closed, and Roxas was all alone.

Sighing, he knelt down, keeping an eye on the stairwell but knowing not to expect anything coming up the steps anytime soon. With free time on his hands, he considered his progress. He'd survived it this far, which was good, but whatever it was Axel had expected to come of him accompanying the Superior and Saix, it hadn't proven successful yet.

'Axel,' Roxas groaned, annoyed. 'You idiot. You're just doing this for laughs, but it's my ass that's on the line right now.'

He couldn't help, however, wondering how the redhead was doing. Having somehow managed to get the rest to their beds to let them sober up, he had quickly returned to Axel's room before meeting up with the Superior. Axel had been fast asleep, draped over his bed where Roxas had left him, occasionally mumbling things that were beyond Roxas' understanding.

Crouching on the dark landing, Roxas thought back on the sight and found himself smiling before he could really understand why. Picturing the sleeping, peaceful expression on the usually lively, devious face, he folded his arms on his knees and rested his chin on them.

"Axel ... you idiot," he repeated softly, with less annoyance and something of affection.

* * *

"Is it wise to leave him out there alone, sir?" Saix asked when the door closed behind them. For a second, they had been thrown into the darkness before torches had flared to life, revealing a new set of spiralling stairs. "Although the boy wields two Keyblades, he isn't experienced enough to handle something like a Defender or a Wizard."

"I would have rather not bring him along at all," the Superior said, leading by a step, "but I couldn't risk leaving him behind and having one of the drunken fools blurt out information best kept secret."

Sensible, Saix thought.

"He does appear to have recollections of this place," he said. "Is there any chance of him remembering who he is?"

"No."

The sudden and abrupt answer made it clear that the Superior had other things on his mind, and Saix accordingly said no more. He had seen the looks the boy had been giving their leader earlier: the Superior's reaction to his old home had not gone unnoticed by either of them, apparently.

Oddly, Saix felt a pang of something unmentionable in him. It wasn't the usual rage he felt, or even the feral anticipation of battle, but having otherwise little experience with emotions to identify what he was feeling now, Saix easily ignored it.

The stairs finally deposited them in a hallway that was as tall as it was wide. More lanterns lit themselves, but their light was minimum, illuminating only the doors they hung next to. Nothing about the Bastion felt right to Saix, but this hallway was definitely gloomier. More than anywhere else they'd been, this hallway had a poignant feel of emptiness. Whoever had occupied these rooms in the past, their presences were sorely missed here.

Most of the doors were bare, but further down Saix slowed his steps when he caught sight of the name engraved in the door on his left; _**Ienzo**_. The next door was plain again, then another name; _**Aeleus**_. Four doors down they'd passed _**Even**_and _**Dilan**_. Three doors from the end of the hallway, the Superior opened the door marked _**Braig**_.

Saix had never heard any of the original six Nobodies' real names, but even a fool like Demyx could have deciphered the anagrams and realized that these were the old quarters of their esteemed superiors.

Even without the labelled door, Saix would have known the room they entered to be that of the Sharpshooter. These days, II was far more interested in fighting, having forgotten most of his scientific roots, but the shelves in here were lined with thick books, tightly bound scrolls, and maps. Loose papers were scattered everywhere, though some had been pinned to the walls in a sequence that was never finished. Amongst the scientific instruments, books and charts were dozens of boxes of cartridges. Firearms of all shapes and sizes took up what little free space there was left on the walls and in the corners.

The Superior went straight for a bookcase and began searching the shelves. Saix remained near the door, keeping out of the way. Looking about the disarrayed room, his eyes settled on the desk nearby and, after having examined everything on it from a distance, he moved closer and picked up the topmost notebook on a pile. Handling it with respect, he opened it to find some untidy scribbles in the upper left corner of the cover.

"'Memoirs of a Genius'?" he read softly to himself, easily resisting the urge to snort at the cocky statement. So typical of II.

"Put it down," the Superior said without looking behind him.

"My apologies, sir," Saix said as he returned the notebook to its exact spot. He allowed the Superior to continue his search for many more minutes. When it looked like the Superior was making some progress Saix deemed it acceptable to speak. "May I ask why all of this is still here? Why did II never return for his belongings?"

"Because this is nothing but rubbish."

Again, Saix's felt a stab of something unpleasant in his chest, and his natural response was to hold whoever it was that aggravated him in any way responsible, but this was the _Superior_. Surely, he shouldn't be reacting this way to his leader's conduct?

To stifle the confounding feeling, he distracted himself by looking around the room again, this time picking up the most insignificant details. Unwillingly, he could only focus on the very thing that was not there, yet present at the same time.

Emptiness.

Despite the clutter, the room was so barren. Everything had been left in disorder, but clearly with the intent that it would all be tidied up later. Only, II had never returned. The drawers were open; old socks were half-hidden beneath the bed; a stack of books and empty spaces on the bookshelves where they belonged; bed unmade; a plate that had once held the remains of a sandwich; a half-finished sketches on the wall: everything was exactly the way II had left them on the ill-fated day. He had left his room, never knowing he wouldn't be returning from the laboratory.

"It is something."

Xemnas had been searching the pages for Xigbar's cryptic notes, but something in the voice broke his concentration.

"What was that?" he asked, frowning at no one in particular.

"This room ... these items ... they're all something, sir," Saix said, merely sharing his observation in an emotionless voice. "Proofs of existence. I cannot understand your apparent disinterest in your past, sir. Forgive me for saying so, but I truly don't."

"Our former selves won't matter once Kingdom Hearts is done."

" ... But until then, sir?"

It was bad enough returning to this place without being forced to acknowledge it like this, but what bothered Xemnas the most was this unusual curiosity Saix was exhibiting. Since when did the Diviner care for anything other than Kingdom Hearts? And since when did Saix pursue a topic even after Xemnas had made it clear that it was not up for discussion? Was this ... rebellion?

'Never,' Xemnas told himself sternly. 'Saix would never challenge me.'

It had to be the Bastion that was playing tricks on him, not his most faithful follower.

"Until that day comes, nothing else matters," he finally said. "We are working towards a future, Saix; a future that acknowledges us. A future that was stolen from us, which we have all rights to reclaim. But for now, we don't matter. We are presently prisoners because of our past. We must distance ourselves from our pasts in order to secure our future."

Saix could hear the finality in the Superior's words, and lowered his voice, talking more to himself then the other.

"Perhaps if you had kept your pasts closer, IV, V and VI would still be with us."

Although but a whisper, Xemnas heard every word. And while he had trained himself to dismiss the notion of true emotions, the mention of his former peers, once his close friends, stirred something in him; a feeling he did not like. Snapping the book shut, he turned around to pin a dangerous look on the Diviner.

"You are on dangerous grounds, _VII_," he said stiffly, stressing the other's rank. "While we no longer feel emotions, the loss of Vexen, Lexeaus and Zexion was a severe blow to our ranks. Had I known my dealings with Marluxia would lead to their deaths I would have killed the traitors sooner. If you are implying that I cared not for what happened you are gravely mistaken, Saix."

Saix felt humility seep back into him.

"My deepest apologies, sir. It's not in my place to question you, and it was poor taste to bring our deceased comrades into the conversation. I spook out of … jealousy."

"Jealousy?" Xemnas scoffed as he picked out another book. "And what would a Nobody be jealous of?"

"We are all Nobodies, sir, but you and the first five retained your memories. If I had anything, so little as a hint of who I was before, I'd hold on to it; to the proof that I once existed. Here you have your old home, your old rooms, your old belongings, all of which you reject. Longing for my past, while watching you neglect yours, is almost cruel."

"Is it?" Xemnas asked, returning the book to its place and blindly adding another to the growing stack in his arms. "How can you envy when you have no true emotions, VII?"

"The same way I can feel respect you, sir. The same way I can feel the thrill of a hunt. The same way I can feel the wrath that feeds my attacks. If I felt nothing, I would be unable to garner the rage needed to transform into my berserker rage."

"Your 'rage' stems from frustration, which comes from your acknowledgement that you are nothing," Xemnas said, speaking in a tone of one who was growing weary of having to repeat himself all the time. "Because you feel nothing—and because you are aware of your inability to genuinely feel anything—despite your wish for otherwise, you become conflicted, which you assume is agitation, which you then interpret as emotions."

"Surely, sir, it's not as formulaic as that?"

"It is better to keep things at a simpler level."

"Then there_ is_ more to it than that?"

"Saix, I've had enough of this. Leave well enough alone."

"But, sir—"

"Enough!" Xemnas snapped, slamming the book he'd been leafing through down and walking over to the surprised Diviner. He then grabbed the other by the shoulders, using his height advantage to stare down at the Diviner with superior dominance. "Do you not see, Saix? Everything we've just discussed will be irrelevant once we've regained our hearts. Our hearts are all that matter because until we have them, we simply don't matter. Once we get our hearts, we can argue our views for all eternity, if we want. But for now I will not hear another word on the matter. We need to succeed, and for that to happen I need you by my side. Do not disappoint me."

"I do not intend to," Saix said, bewildered that his questions had affected the other this way.

"Your 'jealousy' speaks otherwise."

"It was ... It was just a moment of weakness, sir. It will not happen again."

Xemnas studied the other. He believed that he had reinforced his will over Saix, but that didn't change what had already been said. Saix _didn't_ question him. The others did. Some would carefully challenge him, and Marluxia and Larxene had openly defied him, but Saix ... This was the last person Xemnas would have ever expected to question him in this manner. Living a life that never was in a world that didn't exist, where nothing was certain, the Diviner had been one of the few things Xemnas could rely on to be predictably constant; to be safely trustworthy. He had as much confidence in Saix's loyalty as he had in the completion of Kingdom Hearts, but if Saix was proving to be unpredictable, then did that mean that Kingdom Hearts … ?

"It'd better not," he snarled, letting the other go roughly. "I will not tolerate disloyalty…"

Their mission forgotten (a shocking rarity), Saix's mind went blank. He almost dropped the books the Superior had pushed into his hands. Disloyalty? It couldn't be that ... the Superior no longer trusted it ... could it?

"Sir, I will readily admit that I was out of line, saying what I said, but speaking my mind cannot possibly be considered a sign of disloyalty."

Xemnas hesitated. Saix always spoke the truth to him, but had never sounded this sincere while doing so. Perhaps he was wrong to judge so quickly and—

"_What, are you doubting _yourself _now?"_ asked a voice in his head, sounding so foreign that it was as though another had invaded his mind. _"Believing in your minions rather than yourself? Have you such little resolve?"_

'Who are you?' Xemnas demanded.

"_No need to sound so worried. I am no enemy of yours. In fact, I've always been here, a part of you, silent with content. But now ... You are faltering. For the first time, you are no longer in full control of your own thoughts and resolutions."_

'Then you should know that I do not second guess myself.'

"_Prove it,"_ the Voice challenged. _"What would a true leader say to a disobedient servant?"_

"Sir?"

Saix was staring at him expectantly, making Xemnas realize that he had blanked out for a moment, too busy arguing with the Voice. Caught off guard, and with the challenge still ringing in his ear, he looked at Saix with resolute eyes.

"In times like these, I will take no chances. Loyalty has grown overused and underappreciated. Each of us swore our allegiance to the Organization, yet in the course of months our numbers were nearly halved, thanks to two who had taken that oath."

Saix wondered what change had come over his leader. The orange eyes had dimmed a few moments ago, as though the Superior's mind had been temporarily transported elsewhere. The Superior seemed to have come around, but ... something was different.

"I gave you my word, sir," Saix said. "I have done as you have commanded without fail. I have sworn you my loyalty and life. If there were more I could do to prove myself, I would do it without fail, but I thought that I had proven myself to you already, sir. If that is not the case ... My apologies, but there is nothing more I can do, other than serve you."

As if a raging fire had been doused within him, Xemnas felt a welcome calm wash over him, clearing his thoughts, which had somehow become clouded without his knowledge. More importantly, the Voice was gone. A moment of weakness. While berating the Diviner for losing sight, he himself had shown a shameful loss of control.

Pulling himself and his authority together, he walked out of the room.

Adjusting his hold on the books, Saix followed wordlessly, uncertain as to whether his words had gotten through to his leader. The Superior hadn't gone far. He stood before the remaining door, marked _**Xehanort**_, at the end of the hallway. Saix kept his distance, but waited faithfully.

Xemnas looked at the name—his old name. The name he had discarded long ago.

"Leave me," he said without looking back.

There was no immediate response.

"I said leave me,_ Neophyte_," he snarled.

After a short pause, he heard Saix turn around and walk away. Listening to the fading footsteps, Xemnas slowly turned around, half hoping that Saix would look back as well; almost hoping that the Diviner would defy him and return to his side. But Saix did as told, and disappeared down the stairs.

"_A servant,"_ said the Voice. _"He is but a servant. They all are. Do not let any of them get in your way. Can you really trust anyone? Once Kingdom Hearts is completed, and their hearts are returned, what will you mean to them? Nothing. To them, you are merely a means to get what they want."_

'What are you suggesting?'

"_That they are only good as tools. They think they can use you, but only you have the rights to use them, because you are superior. Remember your power, and do not let anyone take it from you. Nothing else matters. More importantly, _no one_ else matters."_

Without answering, Xehanort opened the door and slipped into his old room.

* * *

Having exhausted his counting skills on counting all the steps in sight, Roxas was beginning to grow very bored on the landing floor when he heard footsteps. Quickly getting to his feet to cover up his inattentiveness, he jumped back when the door slammed open, almost knocking him down the stairs he'd just counted.

"Hey! Are we under attack? What happened—"

Next thing he knew, a heavy stack of books were shoved into his arms and he just barely registered Saix's long blue hair before a black portal opened and then closed, once more leaving Roxas all alone at the top of the stairs, wondering what had just happened.

Had it really happened? Well, his arms were now straining holding the massive volumes, so _something_ had happened.

Cautiously peering around the door, which had been left open, Roxas expected to see the Superior returning as well, but he couldn't hear any footsteps on the spiralling stairs. The door soon closed itself. Feeling like a lost child, Roxas just stood there with the books, wondering what to do. He considered following Saix, then he considered going to check on the Superior, but finally decided that, since no new orders had been issued, he was still on guard duty.

Putting the tomes on the ground, he sat down with a sick feeling in his stomach.

Whatever had happened, it had put Saix in a bad mood. As dangerous as Saix was, Roxas doubted he'd get so worked up over nothing. But the only other person who'd gone in there with Saix was the Superior. It couldn't possibly be that ... they'd had an argument?

Saix ... ? The Superior ... ? An _argument_ ... ?!

What sort of hellish dimension was this, and what sort of powerful magic did it posses that could cause the Superior and Saix to argue?

'Crap! Crap, crap, crap!' Roxas thought, now pacing the limited area. 'No way. I must be mistaken. The Superior and Saix don't fight. Saix always agrees with the Superior. Impossible. Something else must have happened. Maybe they met someone in there. Or maybe they encountered a Heartless that ran away before Saix could kill it. Yeah, that's it. Saix's angry because his prey escaped him. That's it. That's got to be it ... '

Not convinced by his own arguments, Roxas took a moment to realize that, since Saix had summoned a portal, he must have returned to the Castle That Never Was. Saix had gone home, in an extremely dangerous state.

'Axel, I hope you guys aren't doing anything stupid ... ' Roxas sincerely wished, suddenly fearing for his friends' lives.

* * *

Dusks were fun.

To the bored-and-eager-for-any-distraction Nobody, Dusks were the next best thing to, well, boredom. One alone was entertaining, but get a whole group together and you were guaranteed a good time. Funny looking; fun to boss around; fun to use as target practice. Yup, having a couple of the squiggly things around was a good way to pass the time between nothingness and eternal nothingness.

Dusks were also pretty stupid.

They couldn't think for themselves. They didn't appear to think much _of _themselves. When ordering them about you had to use short, simple commands. Big words were best avoided because Dusks associated big words with big things, as they'd unwittingly discovered when Vexen had ordered a Dusk to fetch him a 'quantumagnaregenerator'. The dumb thing had interpreted the strange but big word as Vexen wanting something strange and big, so it had gone and fetched him Xaldin.

Some of the higher ups had supposed that, over time, the Dusks would evolve into more sensible beings, but for now Axel could conclude three things: Dusks were funny, stupid and obedient. And he liked them like that.

"This," he held out a seemingly innocuous piece of paper to the group of Dusks he'd gathered around him. "This. Here." He pasted it onto the wall, where it eventually faded into the whiteness.

"How pleased will the Superior be with you playing interior decorator in his office?" Xaldin asked, leaning against the desk, watching the redhead directing the eager Dusks to the walls. Their wriggling bodies were giving his already sore head another headache.

"All I care about is how pleased I'll be when I don't have to go out on suicide missions anymore," Xigbar said, walking across the ceiling, pasting more of Axel's mysterious strips of paper to the white surface, using his foot to smooth out any air bubbles. Along with Luxord, he was the only one who had already fully recovered from their little booze fest. "I hate wasting good ammo on stinking Shadows."

"How exactly do these things work?" Luxord asked, studying one of the papers Axel had conjured up not half an hour ago, turning it this way and that and finding nothing but plain paper.

"Subliminal messages," Axel said, sighing when one of Dusks failed to coordinate its aim properly, which ended up with it pasting the paper on another Dusk's back. "Anyway, I encoded Saix's name onto these papers and, once we've covered this entire office with them, our dear Superior will suddenly find himself thinking about Saix a whole lot more."

"This is so bad, you guys," Demyx insisted from his post at the door, still wobbly on his feet with the taste of rum at the back of his throat. "They can be back at any moment and if the Superior catches us in here—"

"That's why you're on lookout," Xaldin reminded, lifting scrolls and books off the desk for Luxord, who was applying the strips with swift efficiency.

"But what if they teleport?"

"Xemnas doesn't teleport into his own office," Xigbar said knowingly, having some trouble wrapping a strip around the light fixture. "He teleports to the end of the hall, then he just walks the rest of the way."

"Stupid things," Axel said, half exasperated, half amused as he tried to un-stick a Dusk that had managed to paste itself to the wall. It was wriggling furiously while the others gathered around it, encouraging it by hopping around uselessly. With a final pull, the Dusk was freed, and did a happy jig.

"I still don't like it. I've got a very bad feeling about this," Demyx said as he kept glancing around the doorframe for any sign of movement.

"You always have a bad feeling about something," Xaldin said. "And this is actually one of Axel's better ideas. All we have to do it sit back and wait for these things to do the job for us."

"Among other things … "

The thick eyebrows furrowed as Xaldin glared at the redhead.

"What do you mean 'among other things'? Don't go making it complicated, VIII."

"Sheesh, don't get your panties in a twist," Axel snorted and was only saved from a savage pummelling from Xaldin thanks to Luxord's quick thinking. The Lancer froze mid-lunge.

"You've got 30 seconds to explain yourself before the spell wears off," the Gambler said.

"Look, the longer the Superior's exposed to these messages, the more effective they'll be. Meaning that we've got to find a way to keep him in here for the messages to work."

"That shouldn't be too hard. He's in here most of the time anyway," Xigbar said, experimentally tapping the top of Xaldin's head with his knuckles.

"Axel's plans are never easy," Luxord reminded, trying to rub off some of the stickiness from his gloves. "So you expect us to find a way to quarantine the Superior to his own office?"

"Hey, what's with the looks? My plans have worked so far, haven't they?"

"All the more reason to be wary," Luxord said. "Inevitably, your plans never work out exactly the way you thought they would, Axel. There's only so much luck in the world. Ah, time's up, by the way."

"Dammit, Xigbar!" Xaldin growled, gripping his head as the spell released him from its hold. "Once this headache is gone I'm going to crush those bony knuckles of yours!"

"I'm shaking in my boots," the gunner grunted, reclining in mid-air without a care in the world, well out of Xaldin's immediate reach. Flipping over onto his stomach, he turned his yellow eye on Axel. "And what exactly is your next move, Red?"

"You're going to have to get back into a lab coat," Axel grinned. "Since you're the senior scientist here."

" … Go on."

"You can cure diseases, right?"

"Not as good as Lexeaus could, but yeah. Only, there are no diseases here."

"But what if we all caught one?"

"Nobodies cannot catch colds," Luxord interrupted.

"Correction," Axel said. "Nobodies have never gotten ill _yet_. There's always a first time."

"I thought we were doing this to_ preserve_ our health," Xaldin said.

Axel ignored the comment.

"Remember that time when Vexen accidentally spilled something on his arm—"

"You mean when you jumped out of the closet and screaming while he was mixing two very volatile chemicals together," Xaldin corrected.

"Yeah, that little accident—"

"It wasn't an accident."

"Fine, that little _incident_. Anyway, remember he got a really bad rash that cleared up in a few days time, with no consequences? If we can find more of that stuff, we can fake some sort of deadly virus."

"You mean to say that, if we all become 'infected' by this 'virus' … then those who are still 'healthy' would have to be separated to prevent becoming 'contaminated' by the 'disease'," Luxord analyzed, getting an increasingly wider grin of confirmation from Axel. "You plan to convince the Superior that he should stay in here to prevent himself from getting infected."

"You're missing the other half of the equation: Saix," Xaldin reminded.

"We'll say that the disease has spread through most of the castle and that this office is one of the few safe places left. Meaning that, unless he wants to get infested, Saix would have to stay in here too." Axel tried to recall the last time he'd had this much fun plotting, and failed. Not even watching Marluxia be cut down by that squirt of a Keyblade wielder had been this entertaining.

"Why am I under the impression that this Master Plan of yours is getting more dangerous than any of the missions the Superior has ever sent us on?" Xaldin grumbled.

Before the debate could go any further, a Sniper Nobody materialized out of thin air, and stayed there, clinging to an invisible wall right next to Xigbar. It was not unusual for their servant Nobodies to report to them, and Xigbar had specifically assigned his troops to keep an eye out on the rest of their base while they were holed up in the Superior's office.

"Massster…" it reported in the raspy voice shared by all lesser Nobodies. "Massster … One hasss returned."

"Already?" Xigbar frowned, growing serious. "Which one?"

" The Berssserker."

Xigbar's frown deepened. It was unusual for those who left together to return separately, unless something had gone wrong.

"Is he injured?" he asked while the others stood below, listening intently.

"No, massster."

"Where is he now?"

"He isss contained."

Meaning that Saix had gone straight to his quarters.

"He isss alssso dangerousss."

Meaning that Saix was pissed off for some reason.

"Dismissed," Xigbar said, jumping down to land gently on the floor. Above him the Sniper Nobody vanished.

"What do you think happened?" Axel asked, voice pinched. "I mean, Roxas was with them and if something major happened he could be hurt or—"

"Chill out, dude," Xigbar said, shoving Axel's shoulder. "There's no way in Hades Saix would have run from a fight, or left them behind if someone was injured. I don't think anything serious went down. The Superior and Roxas are probably still at the Bastion."

"It isn't like Saix to return on his own when the Superior's still abroad, though," Luxord said. "Not unless ... he was ordered to."

"Why would the Superior order Saix to leave?"

" ... Maybe Saix isn't feeling so good," Demyx said when no one else could come up with an answer. He had joined them in the middle of the office.

"Have I taught you nothing about standing guard?" Xaldin rolled his eyes. "Whatever the reasons, if Saix is back then the other two might not be far behind. We'd better get out of here before the Superior returns."

"Yeah, we're pretty much done in here," Axel said. "Next stop, the labs. We've gotta find that fungus Vexen was messing around with."

"Someone still needs to clear away all the rum barrels," Luxord reminded.

"Have fun," Xigbar said, slapping Xaldin on the back. "And that's an order."

"At least I won't be caught somewhere where he shouldn't be," the Lancer shrugged.

"Scram," Axel told the Dusks, who proceeded to run around mindlessly, not sure what the word meant but aware that it had something to do with movement. "Man, these things are cute! Er, let's see ... Go away."

That command they knew well; Vexen used to shout it at them on a regular basis. As one they slunk away like jiggly mice.

"What about Saix?" Luxord asked.

"Someone's gonna have to feed the story about the 'virus' to him," Xigbar said.

"And who's stupid enough to approach that one when he's is such foul a mood?" Xaldin asked.

Demyx, who hadn't been paying as close attention as he should have had, had been humming to himself as he looked around, testing to see if he could find one of those subliminal messages things. His happy tune turned sour, however, when he noticed the silence, and the four pairs of eyes (well, three and a half pairs) staring right at him.

"What?" he asked innocently, oblivious to where the conversation had strayed.

Axel threw an arm over his shoulder and grinned a grin wider than the Cheshire Cat.

"Heeeeey, Demyx, little buddy! How would ya like to be relieved from guard duty?"

Tbc …

* * *

Read & Review, please.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

* * *

How?

That's all Roxas wanted to know: _How?_

How the heck had things managed to go from bad to worse?

How was it that, after having to wait over an hour before the Superior finally returned in such a dark mood that it the perky sole Shadow that had been nipping at the end of Roxas' coat plummeting to its death from the stairs, Roxas's day had still managed to find a deeper hole to spiral down into?

The Superior wasn't a happy person, but he had emerged in about as bad a mood as Saix had, prompting Roxas' earlier suspicions to rear their gossiping heads. Really, had there been a fight between those two—? No way. A fight is, essentially, a disagreement. Saix never disagreed with the Superior. That went against his instincts, along with smiling and being able to take a joke.

Not daring to ask whether the mission had been a success, Roxas had meekly followed the Superior back to the castle. The heavy books he had been burdened with seemed to imply that the Superior had found what he'd been looking for, but if Saix had handed them to Roxas hours earlier, what had the Superior been up to? Maybe the Superior had failed to find answers in the Bastion, in spite of his high expectations.

All in all, it had been a weird mission, and Roxas had been very happy to step foot back inside the castle, where he eagerly gave the books to the Superior without being asked and watched as their leader strode off. The relief had been short-lived, though. One second Roxas had been enjoying the gloom-free environment, the next he was staring up at Xigbar's grinning the face, followed by a yank, a dash down a Corridor of Darkness, and a sudden stop in The Laboratory That Used To Go BOOM A Lot, now known as The Basement of Dusty Doom (Roxas suspected Axel had been dying to use that one for some time).

Which brings back the question: how?

It had been a suggestion. One little suggestion meant to break the ice; to have them accept him into their little group. He hadn't meant it to be taken this seriously. He'd never expected it to snowball into this gigantic mess. And he certainly hadn't expected what was now being expected of him from the four Nobodies smiling down at him. Standing next to Xigbar Demyx had the decency to look apologetic, though he was also looking scared: whatever his role was in this latest catastrophe, he had Roxas' sympathy.

"No."

"What 'no'? This was your idea, Roxas," Axel said, as though he could trick Roxas into taking full responsibility for this twisted dating game.

"No." Roxas turned on his friend, eyes narrowed. "_My_ idea was reasonable. _My_ idea was subtle. _My_ idea did not include spreading viruses!"

"So we might have deviated a bit—"

"A bit?! It's dangerous and irresponsible!"

"We're all in on this."

"I'm not going to spread some … some … rotting vegetation all over my body!"

"It didn't leave any long-time ill effects on Vexen," Axel tried to reason.

"How do you know, huh? Maybe he came up with a cure in secret. Maybe he was feeling a lot worse than he let on. He was always squirreled away down here; how do you know this stuff never affected him?"

"Roxas has got a point," Luxord mused, stroking his goatee.

"He does, doesn't he?" Xaldin said.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"HEY!! LET ME GO!!"

"It's great to see a plan come together, eh, Demyx?" Axel asked the Nocturne, who was standing as far away from the table and its ominous vials of lumpy algae as possible.

Eyes wide as he watched Luxord and Xaldin strip poor Roxas until he was half-naked, Demyx gulped.

"Y-Yeah, s-s-s-sure…"

"Yuck! This is disgusting!" Roxas cried when Xaldin began pouring on the gravy-like substance onto his shoulders and back. "Not the face! Not the face!"

"Tsk-tsk, Lil' Dude. You're not going to be one of those difficult patients for Dr Xigbar, are ya?" Xigbar, wearing a lab coat and carrying a clipboard, sashayed into the room (Roxas couldn't remember him leaving in the first place, but then again, it was Xigbar: logic needn't apply). Standing next to Xaldin, who had pinned Roxas down on the cold table, Xigbar cautiously wiped away some of the gooey substance with a gloved hand and made a satisfied sound. "Perfect."

Wrenching himself free, and almost liberating his arm from its socket in the process, Roxas stumbled to the nearest metallic supply closet and turned around. Tiny red bumps were already spreading across his skin from under the algae. A tingling sensation, which was quickly becoming an incapacitating itch, was starting to trickle down his spine and into his legs.

"I hate you all," he scowled at the others.

"It's all for the greater good," Axel said, sitting on a stool as Luxord dabbed his upper body with the itchy goo.

"I want you all to burn in hell and I'll want front row seats," Roxas insisted, devastated that, no matter how he turned, he'd never be able to reach the centre of the itch.

"You two get going," Xaldin snarled at Xigbar and Demyx, smearing in his own arms. "And don't cock up or I'll wash your mouths with this stuff."

"And I'd have a pitchfork too. A flaming hot one, which I'd use to jab you in the eyes," Roxas continued to swear as his neck and cheeks turned red and bumpy. "This really itches! It's driving me nuts!"

Axel was beginning to scratch now and Roxas smugly noticed that the redhead no longer seemed so smug with this plan of his.

"Damn, what was Vexen thinking, making this sludge?" Axel wondered out loud.

"I'm pretty sure," Xaldin said through gritted teeth as he fought the urge to scratch, "that, up until you scared the daylights out of him, he'd been in the middle of a much more productive experiment."

"I say!" Luxord exclaimed as the first effects of the algae finally started to assault his senses. Instead of breaking out into hives, his eyes were beginning to get puffy and he was sweating.

"Ha ha ha!" Axel laughed, only to be overwhelmed by a vicious itch on his lower back. "Dammit!"

"So then, call this idea a success?" Xigbar, growing more and more gleeful at their sacrifice and his non-blotchy, non-itchy state of being, asked. "Shit, almost forgot to take pictures! Where's the camera?"

While everyone else was preoccupied with scratching, shivering, cursing and shaking (that last one would be Demyx), Roxas plunked himself down on the floor, feeling very miserable. The itch was now spreading south and he'd be damned if he scratched himself _there_ in front of everyone.

"You'll thank me someday," Axel said, plopping down next to him. One of his eyes were twitching uncontrollably.

Clenching his legs together to try to squish the itch down there, Roxas folded his arms and dug his nails into his skin, partially to not scratch, partially to not strangle Axel. It was the first time they'd been alone since Axel's little drunken rant, and the redhead seemed to have forgotten all about it. Still, when he slung a hand around Roxas sensitive shoulders the blond squirmed, mostly because the feel of sticky, rash-covered skin on his was not appealing in the least.

"You know this is a stupid idea, right?" he asked.

Axel looked around them. Xaldin seemed to have lost all control of his limbs. Xigbar was eagerly snapping away with the camera he'd stolen from a now camera-less photographer from another world, cackling like a hyena. Luxord, practically blind, was feeling his way around the room. Demyx was doing his best to avoid touching anything. The rest preoccupied, Axel gave Roxas a mischievous grin.

"Between you and me, it's the dumbest idea I've ever had. Isn't it great?"

"Is … your hair falling?" Roxas noticed, hesitant to voice his observation.

"WHAT?!"

* * *

Xemnas hadn't been sitting behind his desk for more than fifteen minutes when he felt it: a presence. He looked around him for anything new and unwelcoming, like an spying enemy, or a stink bomb, or Axel. Nothing had been moved or added since last he'd been in here. But his instincts were always dead accurate so, putting down his pen with an annoyed grunt, he got to his feet.

He waited warily, but the Voice remained silent.

If it weren't the Voice, then what was it? He couldn't pinpoint where to investigate. Not that he'd lost track of whatever it was; on the contrary, now that he wasn't focused on his calculations, his senses were being assaulted by this thing, and it was coming at him from every direction. Wherever he looked it was _there_, yet there was nothing. He tried scanning the office. Nothing. It felt as if this influence was coming from the very structure of the room.

"Curious," he mumbled, slowly approaching a window.

Outside the neon streets dazzled under the black sky. But there wasn't anything out of the ordinary out there. The wall right next to the window, however … was bare. Yet still, he found himself staring at it for a long time.

"Very curious. What is this feeling? Some higher power? A new experiment I have not been told of? Perhaps returning to the Bastion affected me more than I thought it would … Could it be my Saix—!"

Xemnas took one big step back, eyes wide.

_Senses_. He'd meant to say senses, not Saix. Why had that name popped into his mind so suddenly? A slip of the tongue? But he'd been talking to himself; how could he have misspoken when he was speaking his private thoughts to himself? Was it the Voice? No, he would have recognized it otherwise. These had been entirely his own thoughts.

'Perhaps my senses have indeed been affected,' he thought, no longer daring to speak out loud lest his treacherous tongue betrayed his mind again. 'I can find nothing amiss in this office, this sanctuary. The sights and smells of the old Bastion must have interfered with my rational thoughts. It will pass soon enough … '

"Sir."

Xemnas didn't even blink, despite his second-in-command's sudden appearance on the ceiling directly above him. It was unusual to be addressed as such by the Freeshooter, who conducted himself with as much formality as a 5-year-old with a sailor's mouth and sniper's aim, but even this wasn't enough to garner more than a brief glance from Xemnas. On a better note, it appeared he wouldn't have to deal with any more drunkards.

"Xigbar," he acknowledged before returning to scrutinizing the wall. What in the name of hearts was so interesting about a plain wall? "And to what do I owe this visit?" he asked with not much interest.

A shadow appeared high above him on the wall. Turning his eyes upwards, he was met with a sombre face. As if that weren't enough, he noted that Xigbar was wearing his lab coat, which hadn't seen the light of day (or the outside of the closet, anyway) ever since Vexen had taken complete control of all research. Xigbar had given up his position as head scientist without a fight, as it had left him with more time to spend on rooftops throughout the city, picking off Shadows with his guns. The return of the white lab coat, and Xigbar grave look, earned the Freeshooter Xemnas' full attention.

"Who died?" he asked. "Or what object of great importance has been destroyed beyond repair?" He instinctively looked up at the sky, but of course Kingdom Hearts was still there in all its incomplete magnificence.

"There's a virus on the loose."

Xemnas lowered his guard, not too concerned.

"And why should this concern us? We both know that we cannot get Sa—ill."

Wait, what?! Had he almost said 'Saix' again? One time had been a slip of the tongue, but a second time …

Had he not been so caught up in his thoughts Xemnas would have noticed the corners of Xigbar's mouth twitch.

"That's what we thought too, at first," Xigbar said, secretly struggling to keep a straight face, unable to believe that the stupid subliminal messages were working, "but Xaldin, Luxord, Axel and Roxas have already contracted it. It's imperative that something is done, and quickly."

"And what are the symptoms?" Xemnas asked, listening to the Freeshooter with one ear.

"So far, a nasty rash, sleepiness, hyperactive imaginations, spasms, hair loss and boils. Even Roxas has been infected, possibly because, whereas the rest of us have been gradually exposed to it, he came back to it from virus-free environment."

On any other day, at any other moment, Xemnas would have long suspected that Xigbar was just making it all up as he went along, without even bothering to make it sound coherent, but now he was too busy analyzing his straying thoughts to analyze the other's straying rationalization.

"If that is so, then why haven't I caught S—_it_ too?" Xemnas pulled his hand away from the wall, rubbing the tips of his fingers together, confused. Along with the other's name, the scarred face kept flitting in and out of view before him.

"Don't know," Xigbar said. "But we cannot take any chances. I've quarantined them down in the labs, but I think that it might have spread to other parts of the castle and … Is something wrong, Superior? You're mind seems to be elsewhere."

"No. Go on," Xemnas said, turning away from the wall and walking over to his desk to take a seat. Struggling to clear his mind, he watched as Xigbar, still on the roof, walked over. However, now it was the light fixture the Freeshooter was standing next to that seemed to call out to him. "And what about Sa—_Demyx_!" He cursed under is breath, rubbing his eyes and missing Xigbar's quick but wide grin. "What about _Demyx_?"

Maybe he had been infected as well. He sounded like he was losing his mind. Perhaps this virus had nestled itself into his office. That would explain the vibes …

"He appears healthy, but we must be very careful. I've already made some progress on an antidote in the labs, but until I find a definite cure it'd be for the best if we stayed put. Demyx, once he's done with a little errand I sent him on, will help me with the antidote. The good news, however, is that the disease hasn't reached your office yet, so it would do well if you stayed put until the castle has been properly sanitized."

There was something very suspicious about this, Xemnas started to find, but now seeing fell yellow eyes glowering at him from every dark corner of the office made him hold his tongue. _He _was the one seeing and saying strange things, so perhaps he should trust that Xigbar knew what he was doing.

"Do what you must," Xemnas said, briskly pulling his papers towards him once more. "We cannot afford to fall further behind schedule."

There was a rushing sound, like a rip in space itself, and Xigbar appeared before him, upright and feet planted on the floor.

"I'm certain it'll be over in a couple of days, but remember: do not leave this room. I'll send Dusks up with regular updates and photos, if you want."

"Good. I want Saix on my desk as soon as possible."

A painful silence followed. Refusing to meet the other's eye, Xemnas clenched his fist, bit back the urge to scream, and slowly reiterated his statement.

"I want _the reports_ on my desk as soon as possible."

"Consider him done."

Xemnas' head shot up but Xigbar was already heading for the door.

"What did you say?"

"I said, consider it done," Xigbar said, turning with a confused frown. "Why? Did you hear something else, sir? Maybe I should check you over, to make sure…"

"No, no. I'm just … Never mind. Get on with it."

"Sure thing, boss."

Xemnas only faintly registered the sudden drop in formality. Staring down at his shaking hands, he came to the decision that he'd never, _ever_ return to that filthy Bastion again. Mind made up, he resumed his work, ignoring the rest of his office to favour the scrolls before him.

It didn't really work.

'Why Saix? Could it be guilt? Second thoughts on what I said to him … ? Ludicrous! He can feel no more than I can, and cares for nothing … But then why … Why … Saix … ?'

"_You're losing control again,"_ said the Voice. _"Why Saix? Why a lowly Neophyte? He is but a servant. A tool. You need not excuse yourself to him. Or have you already fallen so far, Xehanort, that you would be tricked twice by a subordinate? You deceived your old master Ansem: perhaps it is now your turn to be ruined by your followers?"_

'I am nothing like that old fool,' Xemnas said, eyes narrowing at the mere mention of that name. 'Ansem was a coward from the start. We merely braved to go where he didn't. His fear made him turn a blind eye on our experiments. His fear ... I fear nothing.'

"_Because you are nothing. Remember that, Xehanort."_

Again, the Voice fell silent, leaving Xemnas to brood behind his desk.

* * *

"Why me? Why do they always pick me? I suck at stuff like this!"

Demyx had been searching high and low for their most elusive member, so, naturally, he wasn't having much luck. Saix wasn't in his room, or in Addled Impasse, or in the Library Of Lonely Bookmarks, or even in the courtyard chopping up Dusks. Saix didn't have cool teleporting abilities like Xigbar or Luxord, but he could make himself disappear just as effortlessly, and was less likely to reappear in a timely or convenient manner.

"The guys will be so angry if I mess up! I can't believe how sucky this is! Man, where is he?"

If he blew this, he was dead. He knew it. The others would kill him, after all they went through to put this plan into motion. And trust him to go and just ruin everything!

Pushing open a door, unaware of which room he was entering, Demyx tugged at his spiky hair.

"I can't even find him. I'm bad at tracking others. Oh man, I'm going to screw this up big time, and then they'll be mad at me and if the Superior or Saix find out—"

"If I find out what?"

Demyx yelped and jumped back, smacking the his head against a cupboard. He'd wandered into the kitchen and, much to his elation (closely followed by horror) there was his stray target, sitting at the table, a large cup of tea before him.

"Saix! Hey! Er … I … You … um … Didn't see you there … Hi … Everything … um … alright? Hey, tea! Can I have some … please?"

Saix didn't answer IX's request outright, which was understood as permission. Pouring himself a cup of hot teat, the Nocturne took a step towards the table, then reconsidered and stepped back, re-reconsidered and stepped forward, hesitated and stepped back, puzzled for a moment then—

"Either stand or sit, IX, but stop fidgeting."

IX almost threw himself into a chair. Normally, Saix would have taken slight satisfaction in causing the boy some form of mental damage, but he felt nothing, excluding the lingering barb that had dug its way deep into his mind, pride and confidence.

"Sorry," Demyx said.

Saix wasn't renowned for his lively conversations, but it was easy to tell when the berserker was being his usual stoic self and when he was one moonbeam away from breaking out his claymore. And there was the lingering warning of Xigbar's Sniper that Saix had returned in a bad mood. As if that hadn't been bad enough, the others had assigned him to feed Saix, the least gullible of the group, Axel's (at best) extraordinary story of old mould being highly contagious.

Demyx usually tapped his fingers when he was nervous, but now he forced himself to clench his hands around his teacup. He wanted to hum, but that could cost him his vocal cords. His sitar was a dependable source of comfort, but it had also been smashed a record-breaking 23 times by Saix.

So all poor Demyx could do was sit there, silently screaming his throat raw while trying to keep up a shaky smile.

"What do you want, IX?"

Demyx was afraid he'd end up screaming if he opened his mouth, but if there was one thing Saix hated more than ... Rephrased: one of the _many_ things Saix hated was not having his questions answered.

"Oh, nothing … um … " Stalling, Demyx took a mouthful of tea.

Saix could see the tears forming in the corner of the boy's eyes as the hot liquid burned his tongue and throat. IX coughed, bravely keeping up the smile through the tears.

"Mmmmm. Good (cough) tea … My (cough) favourite (choke) … "

"If it were nothing," Saix challenged the first statement, "thenwhy were you worried that I might find out?"

"Well … (cough) ... uh … er … yeah, I was talking (cough) to myself. That's pretty crazy, right? I probably was just rambling. Yeah! I was just rambling. Yup. Meant nothing."

Saix had heard enough of VIII's lies to know a cover-up when he heard one, and IX lacked the redhead's quick mind and silver tongue. Plus he was about as tactful in his approach as a behemoth on fire with sirens strapped to its horn . The only thing, the _only thing_ that IX was good at was being IX, and that only worked well for him because he was oblivious to it.

"Hn. If you insist. Good day, IX."

Saix didn't get up. It took a moment for Demyx to realize that it had been an outright dismissal; that _he_ was the one who should be going.

"H-Hey … "

"What?" Saix asked without looking up from his tea.

" … um … "

An empty cup was slowly prodded into Saix's line of sight. About to bring his own cup to his lips, Saix paused. He had an inkling that IX was about to do a very IX-esque thing, and that he'd be helpless to put a stop to it once it got underway.

He was never in the mood for anyone's shenanigans, and he certainly wasn't now. All he wanted was to make sense of where exactly he'd gone wrong; where it was that he'd lost his Superior's good graces. He'd been brewing over their … disagreement the entire time and still, despite his talent of problem solving, he was none the wiser.

Distracted by this dilemma, Saix took too long in getting rid of the other, namely IX, and now the musician, assuming that he was actually interested, was getting that excited, now-I-won't-be-shutting-up-for-a-long-while sparkle in his eyes.

"What's it say?" IX asked, poking the cup, which couldn't have been any more unimpressed than Saix.

Still, the question was worthy of an answer, if only to set the poor idiot straight.

"It's an inanimate object, IX. It isn't saying anything."

Despite the less-than-encouraging reply (and really, who'd ever expect one of those from Saix?) Demyx felt encouraged. Any answer, regardless of how caustic or bored, was a unspoken agreement that conversation would be tolerated for a bit longer.

"Not the cup," Demyx said. "The leaves."

Giving IX a long, hard, and very cold glare (because it just felt better to take out his frustrations on someone, in any way possible), Saix leaned in a bit to find a residue of tea leaves in a shallow pool of cooling tea at the bottom of the cup.

"And why would I know what dead plant life has to say?"

"You can see into the future, can't you?"

"If I could," Saix sighed, sitting back, "I'd have predicted this conversation and I would have avoided the kitchen altogether. IX, explain your babbling. I see nothing in that cup but dregs."

"But you're the Lunar _Diviner_."

At last, IX was making some sense. Complete _non_sense, but some sort of sense nonetheless.

"It's but a title."

"But everyone else's title fits their powers. I'm a musician, so the Melodious Nocturne is a good title. And Axel's the Flurry of Flames, and he controls fire. And Xigbar's the Freeshooter, and he wields guns. And Xaldin—"

"I do not practice tasseomancy."

"Tas-o-whatty?"

"I do not read tea leaves," Saix clarified.

"But you're into that kind of stuff, right?" Demyx asked, forgetting himself (and his task), engrossed in the possibility. Funny that he'd never considered it before that they might have a fortune teller in their group. That would be awesome!

"The only thing I'm 'into' is our cause." Something he'd thought the Superior knew and appreciated …

Unaware of the other's inner brooding, Demyx excitedly pulled off his glove and waved his hand in Saix's face.

"How about palm-reading?"

"No," Saix said, batting the hand away roughly.

"Cards? If I were to get a deck of Luxord's cards, would you be able to use them?"

"Number IX," Saix all but barked, putting down his cup and chipping the bottom on the table. "If you truly have no better way to spend your time then perhaps a mission to the Underworld is in order."

"N-No! I just got back from there! It's creepy!"

"Then remove yourself from my sight."

" … What about astrology?"

Saix opened his mouth with an automatic denial on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself, went silent for a moment, then, despite his better judgement, nodded.

"Really?! Cool! You can see into the future?!"

"The future is never clear."

But Demyx was too psyched to listen anymore.

"Can you, like, see into our future? When will Kingdom Hearts be ready? Will we get our hearts back? Is there really a Keyblade Master? Will we beat him? What's Xaldin making for dinner tomorrow? If it's that chewy casserole thing then I'm eating out—"

"Even if I wanted to, which would never come to pass, I cannot divine anything here."

Saix supposed that some would consider the look of dismay on IX's face a crime, a complete destruction of innocence and happiness. To him, however, it was a foreboding sign that he might have a weepy underling on his hands.

"Whyyyyyyyyyy?" IX whined in a manner unbecoming of anything with a shred of self-respect.

"There are no stars in this world," Saix said plainly and was assured that he wasn't going to have to sit through one of IX's tearful breakdowns when the boy nodded in understanding, sniffing inelegantly.

"…Oh." Demyx sat back, very disappointed but knowing that there was nothing to be done about that. "Well, I guess life isn't so simple. But I'd love to know about that stuff. You know, the future. It would have been great to know that we'll succeed and get back our hearts. Like a boost, or something. I wonder what we'll do when we get our hearts back. Do you think we'll find something else to achieve? Like taking over worlds and stuff?"

Interesting. This was a side of IX that Saix had only heard of, never seen: thoughtful IX. II had once spent ten minutes insisting to Saix that the boy was capable of serious thoughts, only to have IX race past them, high on sweets he'd scavenged in Traverse Town. It was one of the few times Saix had dismissed a superior's words. But here it was, a mature side of IX, albeit it voicing childish dreams.

"Once our hearts are returned to us there won't be a need for the Organization," Saix said, thinking little of his own words while IX took them to heart, figuratively speaking.

"You mean … we'll split up?"

"Our aim is to get back what is rightfully ours; to return to who and where we were before our hearts were stolen from us."

Demyx frowned.

"Yeah, but this place … " He looked around them fondly, some of his business-like manner giving way to wide-eyed earnest. "I just thought that since this is all we have … even if we did get our hearts back, and even if we could go back home … I … I wouldn't want to. It's not perfect, but I like what we have here. What if, when we find our hearts, we're forced back to our old worlds? With our hearts back we'll lose the power over darkness and won't be able to travel through the Corridors. What if, by winning back our hearts, we'll lose each other? Why can't we stay together?"

"Different fates," was all Saix had to say to all of that.

"But same beginnings. After all we've been through, it'll be impossible to just walk away and never see each other again. Why can't we still be the Organization, only with hearts? We'd be stronger and better than ever." IX looked deflated. "If we get back our hearts, and are then separated ... I don't want the first thing I genuinely feel, after so long, to be sadness. I don't want a heart if it only means it will hurt me."

When Saix didn't reply Demyx glanced over. Much to his surprise, the Diviner was not only looking right at him, but for once, it wasn't a look of contempt, or rage, or even a blank glare. It was a thoughtful one, and Saix only ever looked thoughtful when he cared enough to think about something. He'd never cared for anything Demyx had to say in the past … so …

Saix was thinking better of him?

Saix was taking him seriously?

Saix was—

"Goodbye, IX."

—back to his old, must-not-talk-to-low-lives self. And this time it was the Diviner who stood, preparing to retreat into another hiding place where Demyx was certain he'd never find him. Saix knew that he was looking for him now and would make himself scarce on purpose, and then Demyx would have to report back to the others that … Hey, wasn't he supposed to be doing something else?

Oops.

"H-Hey!" Demyx stammered, leaping to his feet and rounding the table so quickly that he found himself standing chest-to-chest with the Diviner. Again, his mind deserted him and he could not come up with a quick enough excuse for his actions. The next best thing was: "Um … ever noticed that we're the only two in the whole Organization whose names end with an 'X'?"

Saix wondered if, perhaps, he was developing an immunity against IX's charms, because he was definitely itching to throw the other across the room. On top of worrying about the Superior, he had been unexpectedly affected by IX's concerns about the consequences of receiving their hearts. The thought that a heart wouldn't only bring them salvation, but misery as well, had never occurred to Saix. Or, if it had, he'd been quick not to consider it.

"Oh brother … " said a voice from the doorway.

Demyx's face flushed at Xigbar's exasperated look. Saix gave their superior a curt nod, which was far more respectfully than he usually gave Demyx (who was normally greeted with a 'what-the-hell-do-you-want?' glare). Feeling like he'd totally blown their plan, Demyx looked at the Freeshooter with lost eyes and Xigbar sighed again.

"There's been a viral outbreak," he told Saix. "Go to the Superior's office and do not leave it until I give the all clear."

Demyx's self-pity turned to awe. Of course, Xigbar being second-in-command meant that he was not to be questioned when he gave direct orders, and everyone knew that Saix never disobeyed a direct order, but that he'd managed to pull it off in all seriousness, to a currently not-too-negotiable Saix, was the works of a master. They both watched as the Diviner left the kitchen through a Corridor. Demyx fell back into a chair, shivering.

"I was taking it slowly, to throw him off guard," he defended himself at Xigbar's imploring stare.

"If you'd taken it any slower he would have thrown you off the nearest balcony. Never try to draw out a conversation with Saix. Just go in, get it over with and back off."

With no warning, a Corridor bloomed in the middle of the floor, letting in a horde of red-faced Nobodies, one of whom was carrying a small monitor which he placed on the table as if it were some sacred object of worship. The rest crowded around like fanatic worshippers.

"What are you doing up here?" Xigbar hissed at them as Axel started tinkering with the monitor. "You're supposed to be quarantined."

"I can't get a good signal down in the basement," Axel shot back, pulling at an antennae and whacking the side of the television while the others watched anxiously.

Roxas, who was too weak to stand on his own, now slumped against the table.

"What are you talking about?" Demyx asked. Xaldin and Luxord (whose eyes were no longer so puffy but very bloodshot) were blocking his view so he had to be hopping behind them, only catching one second glimpses of the screen.

Xigbar had the miracle of anti-gravity. Still sneering at their spontaneity, he teleported himself directly above Axel. On the small screen was a grainy image which flickered in and out of sharpness as Axel continued to abuse the antennae. It took a few more minutes, and one good whack, and everything came into focus. Grinning widely, Axel looked up at Xigbar, his fiery crown of hair much less drastic with a few tuffs missing here and there.

"Say hello to the Love Cam!" he said. "A little something extra I added at the last minute to make sure everything runs smoothly this time."

The single yellow eye narrowed for a second, then flew open as two and two were put together.

"You installed hidden cameras inside the Superior's personal office?!" Xigbar snarled. "As if plastering the room with voodoo stickers wasn't bad enough, you blatantly defiled our leader's privacy? It's outrageous!"

"You're pissed because it's unethical?" Xaldin asked, in serious doubt.

"No, I'm pissed because I can't believe I didn't think of it first! Move over!" Xigbar laughed, pushing Axel aside and claiming the chair directly in front of the monitor. Everyone else crowded around him, with poor Demyx still in the back, bouncing in and out of view of the screen.

Roxas could think of a million ways this could all go fatally wrong, but right now he was too tired and inflamed to say anything. Weakly resting his head on Axel's arm, he stared at the screen, at the Superior sitting at his desk.

Sometimes, it was just easier to go along with it.

Tbc…

* * *

Read & Review, please.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

* * *

Reading was good.

Reading was productive.

Reading was just what he needed to take his mind off of things …

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

After having put himself through the displeasure of revisiting his old home to acquire these files, all Xemnas could see on the pages was one word. No matter how hard he tried to read what was really there, his mind was fixed on one name.

Breathing heavily, he closed the file and ran both hands through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. His underlings had accused him of madness in the past. Vexen had even offered psychiatric help, convinced that their superior was beginning to lose himself in his rabid pursuit of hearts. Xigbar had made a crack about the effectiveness of a psychiatry session with a mad scientist, but even the gunner had approached Xemnas, running things by him a second time to make sure the decisions he'd made had been made by a sound mind.

Xemnas had waved off their unfounded concerns. Was he possessed with the thought of the working and importance of the heart? Yes. Did that mean that he was losing it? No. Such dedication was needed if they ever wanted to become human again.

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

This, however … This was madness!

He was possessed with the thought of one of his underlings, for no good reason. When a mission failed horribly and someone had to drag himself back to their stronghold, in near critical condition, Xemnas would monitor them closely because they could not afford to lose another (dependable) member. There was a time and reason for thinking about the others.

But this was not one of them. And even if it were, it did not excuse the onslaught of images and thoughts, all focused on the Diviner. Just trying to not think of Saix made him think about not trying to think about Saix. Xemnas had found that closing his eyes actually reduced the unwanted thoughts, but when he'd open them again everything would return with the force of an avalanche.

Even the Voice seemed to have given up on chastising him. It hadn't said anything in a long while, perhaps resting up for another lengthy onslaught of words.

There was only one other thing, one feeling that did not relate to Saix: Xemnas had the suspicious feeling that he was being watched. He imagined that he could feel eyes on him, despite being alone.

Mad and paranoid. He was going downhill. Fast.

Pacing usually helped him think, but no matter where he turned insanity seemed to be staring him right in the face. And he couldn't even determine where or what the cause was. He'd torn the place apart, searching for what felt like an incredibly intruding presence, and had come up empty handed.

Sitting down with an un-Superior-like slump in his chair, surveying the mess he'd made, Xemnas watched the clock above the door; watched as the hand ticked past the same numbers, every second bringing him closer and closer to tearing out his hair. And while his eyes could perfectly make out the numbers on the clock's face, his mind seemed set on interpreting the time as twenty minutes to Saix.

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

It couldn't be guilt, could it? He had dismissed the thought earlier, but he had run out of alternatives. What did he have to feel guilty about? Firstly, Nobodies couldn't feel such petty emotions. Secondly, even if they did, guilt was brought on by the notion of having done something wrong, with the possible consequences of having hurt and/or upset others. Saix didn't get upset, and the only hurt he knew were physical wounds. Saix only knew stoniness and wrath, and nothing in between. Xemnas couldn't be feeling guilty because Saix couldn't have taken offence.

And yet, here he was, _still_ thinking about Saix.

He needed fresh air.

A few hours out on the Alter of Naught, staring up at the only thing that mattered to him, Kingdom Hearts, would clear his head of these unwanted reminders. If not he'd leave Xigbar in charge and go study that new world Axel had charred to within an inch of existence.

He just needed to get away.

* * *

"Where's he going?" Axel frowned, lifting his head from where it had been resting in his palms. "Is he leaving? Xigbar, you were supposed to tell him to stay put!"

"Oi, I'm second-in-command," the gunner reminded as he poked at Xaldin's gloveless, bumpy hand with fork, making a game out of pulling away before the larger man could slap him. "I advise him on what to do. If he wants to do otherwise then good luck to him."

"He's hesitating," Roxas yawned. "I don't think he knows what he wants."

"Saix, obviously. Xehanort was just as bad at accepting the obvious," Xigbar said.

"Where is Saix? This sucks! My plan won't work if it's just the Superior in there."

The six of them had been watching the Superior sit and pace around his office for over an hour now. Axel had been doing his own pacing as well. With his friend constantly moving around Roxas had taken to slumping against Xaldin's shoulder. The Lancer, a master of surveillance and the patience it required, didn't object to being used as a cushion, but every now and then he'd upset Roxas' balance by swatting after Xigbar, who, bored, was trying to pop the blisters on Xaldin's arm with an eating utensil, quickly teleporting to a safe distance whenever Xaldin would lash out, only to return like a large, coat-wearing mosquito. Luxord was keeping himself occupied with a game of solitaire. Demyx was lying on the floor, staring at his outstretched hand while alternating between closing one eye at a time.

So far, Axel's Master Plan hadn't been all that masterful, or exciting. Watching their superior walk about aimlessly while talking to himself was nothing new. The man did that every day.

"When was the last time we cleaned this floor?" Demyx asked, sitting up with a sticky sound.

"When you did," Xigbar answered, eager for something new to do because there were no more blisters to pop on Xaldin's right arm.

"I mopped in here, like, a month ago," Demyx said.

"There ya go."

"Gross!"

"Perhaps you haven't noticed," Axel sneered, painfully because the rash on his face was still tender, "things aren't going according to plan. Did Saix leave the castle?"

"That would be going against orders," Luxord said, shuffling his cards. "Perhaps he's been held up."

"By what? Air?"

"Maybe he forgot," Demyx offered, feeling the back of his head where the hair was matted from what it had picked up off the floor. "Maybe he's in his room."

"Wanna go check?"

"Nuh-uh!"

"This is just great! I get myself drunk, infect myself with incurable mould and what do I get in return? Blotchy skin, loss of hair and … "

"And what?" Xigbar grinned when the redhead's rant trailed off into embarrassed silence. He'd been aiming his gun at the unsuspecting Demyx, but he abandoned whatever he was planning in favour of walking up to Axel, who blushed.

"None of your damn business."

"You know, I never did really assess the extent of your symptoms," Xigbar taunted, circling Axel like a bird of prey. "I assume that the rash has spread over your entire body, including … tender areas … "

"Shut up."

"Whatcha going to do about it, pimple-ass?"

"In case you're both wondering, the Superior is heading for the door," Roxas said, just managing to lift his head off Xaldin's shoulder. "He's really going for it this time."

Indeed, on screen their leader was making a beeline for the door.

"Damnit!" Axel slammed his fists on the table, which brought down the house of cards Luxord had been building. Ignoring the Gambler's tsks, he grabbed the sides of the television and screamed at the screen. "Stay put, you idiot!"

"Now go and say that to his face," Xigbar challenged, scratching around his eye patch.

"This plan was supposed to be foolproof! All my plans are foolproof! How else do you think I got rid of Marluxia?"

"Oh, so the eradication of some of our members wasn't an accident after all?" Xaldin sneered sarcastically.

Axel ignored him and continued to bang the set, as if that would somehow knock some sense into the Superior. When the Superior grabbed the doorknob Axel sunk to his knees with a defeated groan and (purposefully) banged his head on the table top.

"Axel…" Roxas said after a few seconds.

His voice promised something reassuring so Axel dared to look up to see the Superior standing before an open door, looking at…

* * *

"Saix?" Xemnas blinked, wondering if he'd lost all control of his mind and was simply imagining the figure who'd just been reaching out to knock when he'd opened the door. He clenched his eyes shut, counted to ten and opened them. Still Saix. Still those piercing eyes and ivory face and fighter's built, cloaked in black.

No. It was just a very persistent illusion, he was sure. Xemnas stuck out his hand, positive that it would go straight through the other's chest, but he struck solid flesh.

Saix stepped back, perhaps thinking that he was being pushed away. The Diviner looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Sir?"

Oh Hades, it was even worse than an illusion. This was real.

"Yes, VII," Xemnas asked in as superior a voice as he could muster, trying to overrule his gaff. 'What is it?"

"I was ordered to come here," Saix said slowly, as if only just remembering the events that had led him here. "II told me of a viral outbreak and that I must keep safe in your office until it's been dealt with. But with so many of our members already infected I decided to make sure the castle grounds were secured before coming here. My apologies, sir. I didn't stop to consider whether my presence would disturb your thoughts."

"Right … right. Xigbar did say something about that earlier. I was just on my way to the Alter, however. I will be back in a few hours."

"Pardon me, sir, but I was under the impression that this virus has spread through most of that section of the castle. Is it wise for you, our leader, to go out and risk an infection?" Saix asked sensibly.

" … No, it isn't."

An uncomfortable silence passed between them, the first they had ever experienced in each other's company.

"May I come in, sir?" Saix finally asked.

" ... Yes," Xemnas said, stepping aside.

* * *

"Aw come ON!" Axel shouted at the screen, leaning over Xaldin's other shoulder. "It's like a bad first date!"

"Whadya expect him to do? Jump Saix right then and there?" Xigbar asked, lying on the floor next to Demyx, copying the nocturne's hand-ceiling gazing activity. Of course, with only one eye he couldn't make his hand jump from one spot to the next by alternating eyes, so he just stared at his fingers until they got blurry. Then he blinked, cleared his vision, and did it all over again. "Ya know, you wouldn't think it, but this _is_ fun."

Demyx beamed at him.

"He must be at least considering it!" Axel went on, not to be distracted from the monitor. "He's got Saix on the brain, and now he's got Saix in there with him. Doesn't this guy have any animal instincts left in him? It should be driving him insane."

"He certainly doesn't look happy," Luxord said as he searched through the fridge.

"Why don't I have psychic powers?" Axel lamented, still trying to project his thoughts through the television and into their superior. "Just … do it!"

"Psychic powers?" Xaldin laughed. "You don't even have control over _your_ mind."

"I really don't think we should be doing this," Demyx said, getting to his elbows while Xigbar rubbed his single, strained eye. "It's wrong to spy on our own teammates."

Roxas mumbled an agreement, blue eyes having considerable trouble keeping track of the figures on the small screen, especially with Axel's head in the way as he hogged the television.

"Why don't you go to Atlantica and ask that sea witch for your balls back?"

"Hey!" Demyx said loudly, looking at Axel with a hurt expression. "I just don't think it's our place to put our own boss under surveillance."

"You are not wrong to think that," Luxord said, returning to his seat next to Xaldin with a plate of leftovers. "However, I'm afraid the Superior has left us no choice. We are doing what's best for this organization."

"Trying to set him up on a date with Saix and driving him insane in his own office?" Demyx actually made a derisive sound and settled back down. "Excuuuse me for doubting you."

Xigbar turned his head, impressed that Demyx had made a snarky comeback. Okay, so he had allowed himself to be whipped back into his place, nonetheless, but at least the kid had tried. Xigbar himself had known that this whole farce was madness from the very beginning, but he was always willing to give something new and exciting a go.

Axel, too anxious to even sit, crouched down, resting his arms on the table as he stared at the two oblivious Nobodies, trying to use pure mental will to force them into complying with his future intents for them.

* * *

Closing his eyes, Xemnas needed to take a few deep breaths and made one last desperate attempt to regain control of his thoughts.

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

"Saix," he said in a voice that balanced dangerously on high as he turned to the Diviner, who was eyeing the messy office curiously. "Do you notice something … odd in here?"

Saix looked from the Superior right back at the strewn papers, pulled-out drawers and knocked-over furniture, not really wanting to comment on how his leader chose to keep his personal quarters. There was a tiny tingle on his skin, which he would have suspected to be an intruding presence, but now he was almost sure it had to do with the Superior's eccentric behaviour.

"Odd in what way, sir?" he asked instead.

"Let it be," Xemnas said, rubbing his head as he walked back to his desk, feeling almost light-headed, despite his head being stuffed with everything related to the Nobody standing in the middle of the room. "Perhaps I simply need a strong dose of Saix … "

"Yes, sir?" Saix asked, having been preoccupied with the mess, only hearing his name at the end.

Xemnas wanted to stab something with his aerial blades.

"I said I simply need a strong dose of potion."

"Do you not have your potions stored in here?" Saix asked, walking over to a cabinet.

Xemnas sat down heavily and covered his eyes with his hand. It helped a bit, but it also made him more aware of the very person he was trying to block out rummaging through his personal stash of potions.

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

He tried to think about Kingdom Hearts, only to remember how often he'd go up to the Altar to find Saix already there, staring up at the moon with a child's wonder. He tried to think about their mission to conquer other worlds, only to remember how precise and deadly a warrior Saix was, slicing through those in his way with instinctive ruthlessness. There had to be something he could think about that did not relate to Saix ... Vexen's old charts! Those things had bored the darkness out of him, despite how valuable they still were. Too bad they were down in the lab, where the disease must be running rampant.

But if the virus was _so_ contagious, how was it that Xigbar could still treat the others without catching it ... ?

"Sir?"

Xemnas opened tired eyes to find a green bottle of potion being held out to him. He stared past the bottle at the fingers and hand covered by black leather. A sliver of the diviner's wrist was visible between the bottom of the glove and the opening of the wide sleeve.

To others the Organization's members all looked the same with their coats and hoods on, but amongst them they could always tell who was who, even from a distance. Each coat was slightly different, tailored to fit each Nobody. Vexen had preferred his coat long, almost sweeping the floor, whereas Xigbar's was slightly shorter than the rest to allow for better versatility when he was walking up walls and levitating. Axel's fitted snug around his arms to reduce the risk of being a fire hazard, while Saix's sleeves were wider that the others, which was more a personal taste than a necessity. It looked like the robe of a priest, ironically.

Xemnas reached out and touched the bottle, but didn't take it. The weight still in his hand, Saix didn't let it go. Xemnas stared at his fingers just an inch above Saix's. He'd never noticed this before, but his hands were bigger than Saix's, despite Saix being the wielder of the massive claymore. The Diviner's hand was elegant, attached to a wrist that looked almost too delicate for one so brutish in battle. The pale skin of the slender wrist was flawless and—WHAT?!

Xemnas slapped the hand away with enough force to make it lose its grip on the potion, sending the bottle smashing against the wall. Saix, who was not easily taken off guard, jumped. Xemnas was as surprised as the Diviner. He had berated and yelled at his subordinates before, but he had never used physical force (outside of sparring) to deal with them. A true, strong leader didn't need to lower himself to that level.

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

"Saix!" he said out loud, getting to his feet and grabbing the hand he'd smacked.

* * *

The six Nobodies in the kitchen leaned in, having not expected such a drastic turn of events. Breaths held, they stared with wide eyes at the sight of their leader and the Diviner holding hands, standing face-to-face, alone in the Superior's office.

"Score!" Axel hooted, throwing up his hands.

* * *

Saix hadn't expected the slap, but when the Superior took hold of his hand he was at a complete loss for words. One, because the Superior had called his name in such an unnecessarily dramatic manner, and two, because the Superior, a man of stony resolve, looked worried.

Correction: he had looked worried, up until he'd grabbed Saix. Now the Superior looked stunned, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"Sir?" Saix asked for clarification, trying a weak tug to free his hand, but the other wouldn't let go. "Sir, I am not harmed."

The hand holding his only tightened. The orange eyes were raging with emotions the Superior would vehemently deny having. The Superior looked down at their joint hands. Saix could see the other's chest heaving. Odd behaviour, erratic pulse, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing … perhaps … the Superior was already infected by the mystery virus! How could he have misjudged the situation so badly? His superior was in obvious distress and he'd just stood by and done nothing.

No matter what the Superior's opinion of him was, Saix was loyal to him and knowing his leader was suffering almost made him panic. This wasn't some enemy he could rip to pieces. This called for a different tactic.

Saix pulled off his gloves and took hold of the Superior's head, cupping the burning cheeks.

* * *

"Finally!" Axel sang, jumping up and smashing his head against Xigbar's jaw.

"No way! They're really going for it?!" Xigbar gaped, rubbing his throbbing jaw but too intent on the screen to feel any pain.

Roxas managed to pry his eyes open, not wanting to miss a landmark in the short history of the Organization. Demyx, on the other hand, blushed madly and covered his eyes.

"YES! Goodbye crappy missions!" Axel laughed, nursing the back of his head where Xigbar's chin had caught him.

* * *

Cupping a burning cheek, Saix gently placed his other hand on the clammy forehead. Using powers he rarely tapped into, Saix scanned the Superior for any diseases. Something was certainly making the Superior unsettled, mostly in the mind, but for the rest his body was healthy.

"My scanning has found no invading micro organisms, sir," Saix said, letting the other go and putting a more respectable distance between them as he pulled back on his gloves.

* * *

_THUNK_

Axel's forehead hit the table. Hard.

* * *

Xemnas was petrified. Physically, he couldn't move. Not because of the usual unpleasant feeling of being scanned, but because the overwhelming feeling of wanting to close the distance Saix had put between them.

"I fear that perhaps the visit to the Bastion might have rattled you, sir," Saix said carefully. "Please sit down and rest."

Xemnas thought that that was a good idea. His mind's intentions of asking Saix to help him to his chair wasn't. How could his mind be desiring more contact? It wasn't the mind's function to regulate such emotions. Emotions came from the heart, and he didn't have one. So where were these outrageous ideas coming from?

He looked up. Saix was gone.

With uneasy suspicion, Xemnas pinched himself. No, not a dream. Had it all been an illusion after all?

" … Saix?" he called, almost jumping when he got a response.

"Yes, sir?"

Saix hadn't disappeared. He was simply kneeling on the floor, gathering the papers Xemnas had thrown about so carelessly earlier. When Xemnas said nothing else the Diviner continued, going through the trouble of refilling everything, making sure they belonged together.

… _Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix … Saix …_

"Leave them," Xemnas said, fighting the urge to follow the curve of the diviner's back, contoured by his long hair.

"I do not mind, sir," Saix said without looking away from what he was doing. "Allow me to do this for you, for you aren't in the state to do this by yourself."

Normally Xemnas would have taken offense at being told that he was unable to take care of himself, but he'd just barely won a battle against his body's urge to pull Saix closer. Brushing stray strands out of his face, he focused all his energy and sanity on taking up the role of independent leader once more, though he still watched Saix's every movement with unsettling interest.

"I was looking for something," he half-lied in a calm voice, coming to stand next to Saix. Looking down at Saix, who looked up at him from his kneeling position, blue hair swept back, Xemnas needed to take a deep breath and count to twenty to retain his control. "I will help you."

Saix nodded and returned to picking up papers and books as Xemnas sank down to the floor next to him. For ever page he collected he snuck a glance at Saix, who worked on, completely unaware of the effect he was having on his superior.

"I spoke rashly," Xemnas said without thought. "What I said at the Bastion, I knew it to not be true. I do not doubt that you are my most loyal."

Saix paused for a moment. Xemnas couldn't see his face, but he saw the slight tension that had strung the berserker's shoulders lift.

"Apologies are not needed, sir. There is nothing you can ever say that will make me lose my faith in our cause, or in you. The poisonous elements in our ranks have been dealt with, and while we lost worthy comrades in the process, the Organization is still strong. We will follow you to the very end, sir."

"That I doubt," Xemnas said. "Not all who remain are as devoted as the rest of us."

"Then I will speak for myself," Saix said, sitting back on his heels and handing Xemnas one file he had already reorganized. "I will follow you, no matter where you lead us to, sir. To the very end, even if it means death."

Xemnas stared at the Diviner. On one hand, it shouldn't be so strange of him to be more in tune with Saix, who was a perfect subordinate. Xemnas appreciated (and secretly revelled in) having someone this dedicated following him. But it didn't explain why he'd developed such a strong … obsession with Saix all of a sudden. Was it the Voice? Was he only rebelling against the part of him that objected the loudest? The Voice had remained conspicuously mute during his apology. Perhaps he'd finally silenced it for good?

"That is all I expect from you," he said.

Saix bowed his head and they went on gathering papers, more comfortable around each other once more, though Xemnas had to stay his eyes from wandering over to Saix from time to time.

* * *

"Oooookay," Axel said, nodding approvingly, the bruise on his forehead already darkening. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but it's good. The Master Plan is still intact and in effect. I'm still in control."

"And still shedding hair all over the place," Luxord pointed out, kicking a loose tuff of fire-red hair off his boot. "So, now we have eliminated the tension between them. What is the next step in your Master Plan, if you have one?"

"We send them off somewhere. Just the two of them this time."

"But wasn't their last trip together a disaster?" Demyx reminded.

"That's because they went to the Bastion: the Superior's most hated place in the known universe," Xigbar said, hanging from the roof. He jumped down, but it wasn't his usual flawless landing as the blisters between his toes burst painfully. "And the Superior's office isn't the best place either. It's his domain. We have to get them someplace where both are out of their elements, and thus, equals."

"And we're back to square one," Xaldin said, rolling his head this way and that to work out the kinks in his neck. "How are you planning to get them to whatever perfect, romantic getaway you've got planned?"

By now everyone knew who to turn to. Luxord fanned out the cards, way ahead of them.

"You must play with the cards you've been given," he said. "Clearly, it doesn't matter where we send them. The seed of doubt has been planted in both their minds. The Superior no longer believes in the feelings of the heart, but it is his mind, his very self, that has fixated itself on Saix. Saix, in turn, is aware of the Superior's mixed emotions, though he doesn't know what the cause is. They are both filled with thoughts and theories. Their guards are down. What we have to instil now are actions."

"In short," Xigbar, nursing his foot, said, "one of them has to make the first move."

"It's gotta be the Superior, ain't it?" Demyx asked.

"He is the one in the most doubt, as well as the authority that Saix would never question or disobey," Luxord said. "But we have to be quick. The Superior is strong willed and it won't be long before he regains control and sets his mind straight. We can influence him to make the right decision."

Here Xaldin perked up. Influencing people to do things was what he specialized in. And it would forever be a proud accomplishment, influencing someone like the Superior, who was normally unmoveable. For once, he willingly joined them in coming up with a way to get their leader to take an even more active interest in the Diviner.

"Hey, you okay?" Axel asked Roxas after a few minutes, noticing that Roxas hadn't moved much for the past ten minutes.

Their youngest member groaned, the skin around his eyes dark. He was practically draped across Xaldin's arm, too tired to sit up straight. Being smaller, yet having been given the same dosage as the rest of them, he was suffering the most, even though he looked a lot better than he had an hour ago.

"M fine …" he grumbled, shaking off Axel's hand. "Wanna sleep … "

"I'll take you to your room," Axel offered, concerned.

"Don wanna … move … Comfy here … "

"Like Xaldin can offer any comfort. Here, I'll help you."

"No!" Roxas argued, resisting. He knew Axel was trying to make him feel better, and he'd love to curl up under his sheets, head on his soft pillow, but he just couldn't find it in him to move. "Xaldin's better … "

Axel felt a tick of insult.

"Well then, you can rest against me if you want."

"Axel, leave me alone."

"What's suddenly so great about Xaldin?" Axel demanded to know.

"Nothing. I just don't wanna move."

"You two sure are awfully chummy all of the sudden."

"Whatever. I'm just tired."

Xaldin watched on as the two argued. He couldn't care less what was being said about him, but the nature of the argument gave him an idea. He looked to Xigbar and Luxord and they smirked, both thinking the exact same thing.

"Jealousy," all three spoke as one.

"What?" Demyx, who had been spacing out, sat up.

Axel went on the immediate offensive.

"I am not!" he objected.

"Not you, you fool," Xaldin said.

"Jealousy is what the Superior needs to … How can I say this politely … " Luxord said.

"Nail Saix," was Xigbar's usual uncouth input. "And no one said that you were being ridiculously jealous that Roxas picked Xaldin over you," he told Axel. He teleported just in time to avoid a face-full of fire. Appearing above the fuming redhead, he cooed, "I mean, it's not like there's _any _underlying sexual tension between the two of you at all."

Xaldin and Luxord laughed. Demyx laughed too, but he didn't fully get what Xigbar was saying. Roxas, unable to take the shaking of Xaldin's shoulder, slid onto the table and rested his head on folded arms, pretty much oblivious.

"Bunch of pervs," Axel sneered at them. "He's my little buddy, alright? I gotta look out for him."

"Has he met _your_ 'little buddy' yet?"

"No, he did no—It ain't little!" Axel said, standing toe-to-toe with the Freeshooter.

"So it isn't true what they say about redheads?"

"Bet yours is all wrinkled and about to drop off, you old fart."

"Boy, I could wear you out in ten minutes," Xigbar winked, purely to further irritate the fiery Nobody.

"Oh yeah? Try me!"

An awkward silence followed his retort. Even Demyx somehow knew that the conversation had strayed into don't-go-there territory. Luxord, a master of hiding his true emotions behind a stony poker face (though really, who could simply forget _that_ little exchange?), cleared his throat.

"Moving on back to the more important topic: jealousy."

"Send them to a world full of lechers," Xaldin said, grinning at the gunner, enjoying the other's uncharacteristic lack of response.

"Then I would suggest Port Royal. If you know all the wrong taverns you will be assaulted within minutes by both women and men," Luxord said.

Again, this would usually be where Xigbar threw in a jab about Luxord's familiarity with such taverns, but he didn't. Axel pretended to look out the window, despite the blinds being shut. With the two most vocal of the group silenced, Luxord and Xaldin took over the scheming.

"We'd have to get them there without them suspecting anything," Luxord said.

"We can't just drop one plan for another," Xaldin said. "They still believe that there's a virus loose. We can use that to our advantage. Tell them that there is only one cure and that it can only be found in Port Royal. Is there any miscellaneous plant, brew, ointment or whatever there that can't be found anywhere else? Something that we can claim is the cure?"

Luxord thought it over.

"Apples."

"There are apples in the 100 Acre Wood," Demyx said, glad he had that much to contribute.

"Rum apples, then."

"What's that?"

"Apples soaked in rum."

"Is that an actual fruit?" Xaldin asked.

"No. But this isn't an actual virus we are trying to cure, is it? Give me a couple of hours to prepare things in Port Royal, then Xigbar will go to the Superior and explain to him that this virus originated in Port Royal and that the native cure are rum apples. Xigbar will then offer to stay behind to monitor us while the Superior and Saix head over there. If they hesitate Xigbar will tell them that if the rest of us don't get those apples on time we will die, and the Organization would be crippled for good."

"Sounds like a lot of work for Xigbar," Xaldin turned to his childhood friend with a fiendish smile, who sneered back at him, then shot a glance at Axel. "Never mind. Looks like he's getting over his not-so-secret crush."

"It didn't mean anything!" Axel snapped guiltily.

"Why is everyone shouting?" Roxas stirred. No one knew when he'd fallen asleep but it had done him some good: he had enough strength to push himself up. "I'm going to bed."

"Lean on me," Axel now said unashamedly, trying to distance himself from his unfortunate words by grabbing Roxas around the waist. "Whatever you thought you heard, you didn't, okay? It was all a dream."

"What are you talking about?" Roxas asked as he was half-carried out the kitchen.

"I believe that the Superior is expecting some medical reports, so I'll leave you to it," Luxord said, standing. "I am off. Mustn't make it too easy for the Superior and Saix to find those rum apples. After all, the longer they spend there, the rowdier the taverns get, the better the outcome. For now, make sure they don't leave that office."

"Not afraid you're going to scare people, looking like that?" Xaldin asked, pointing at Luxord's red skin, greenish gums and black fingernails.

Luxord smiled and pulled on his gloves and hoods, hiding every inch of skin.

"Organization policy, remember?" his posh English accent said from within the darkness of the hood. "Not that I could ever match the pustules of ugliness that inhabit those taverns. And when one can convey charm and class with simple words one need ever show one's face. Gentlemen, it was jolly good dealing with you. We should have tea together sometimes. Cheerio!"

Luxord vanished in a bloom of darkness.

"Talk about laying it on thick," Xaldin said. He turned to Xigbar and asked softly, "Speaking of laying it on thick, you're just pulling Axel's leg, aren't you? The whole 'bashful object of so-called affection' act?"

He didn't need to see the gunner's face: he could hear the evil smirk in Xigbar's voice.

"Yeah. And I'm gonna milk that skinny flamer's humiliation for all it's worth."

"Cruel, dude," Xaldin said, adopting Xigbar's distinct accent.

"Huh, _totally_."

"I'm off to find something that might actually get rid of this itching," Xaldin growled, scratching the back of his neck as he opened a portal and stepped through.

"I don't think you're old."

Having almost fully forgotten about the last person, Xigbar turned to find Demyx, trying to make a tepee with two of Luxord's cards, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. He smiled brightly at the gunner when he saw Xigbar watching him.

"You're still number two, right? That means you're still the best of us all."

"Do you have any idea what we were talking about?"

"Yeah, Axel said something stupid … I think. But he called you old and I think that maybe he's just a bit jealous, because you can still kick his butt, even if you're _a bit_ older."

Xigbar sighed, shaking his head.

"Kid, seriously, what are you doing in this place?"

Demyx stared, then shrugged innocently. He got to his feet when Xigbar waved him over, following the older (though only by _a bit_) Nobody down to the labs.

"Gonna need help with those medical reports," Xigbar told him. "Plus I don't like leaving you in the kitchen on your own. Too many shiny objects that just so happen to be sharp."

"Wanna hear a song I wrote?" Demyx asked, completely off the subject, conjuring his sitar and a couple of Dancer Nobodies to provide back-up entertainment.

Xigbar only listened with half an ear to the preppy song, smiling to himself in disbelief. There was no place for Demyx in this world, but perhaps they were stuck with him because, quite frankly, they needed to have someone like him around.

Tbc …

* * *

A/N: Bloody hell, is that a Xigbar/Demyx creeping up on me? WHY can't I ever just let things be???

Microsoft Word tried to correct "Xehanort" with "seaport". This document has a sense of humour XD

"Hey, Ladya, what DO they say about redheads?"

Er…I wouldn't know. It's just Xigbar being his cocky self. (Oi, that isn't a pun!)

Read & Review, please.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

**A/N: **please go to my profile page BEFORE reading this chapter.

* * *

Port Royal was a breeding ground for all sorts, and not one of them was of a respectable breed.

Those who could afford to live in the large white manors in the green hills above the human ditch of a town were pale, haughty, shallow, and with posh accents much different from the dark-skinned peasants who lived in rundown huts that crowded the inner streets. In this squalor they called a town was where the two kinds were the most likely to mixed in drunken disgrace, and no place drew the reeking crowds more than the taverns.

Still, for now, this world, this reeking pit of humanity, was better than his office, Xemnas found.

Here he was no longer being terrorized by images of Saix, and could speak without interjecting the other's name in his sentences. Whatever was in his office, Xemnas hoped it would be gone by the time they returned. If not he'd might just have to move to another part of the castle, as his office was one of only a few rooms that never rearranged or repositioned itself. And while having Saix with him now wasn't as comfortably familiar as usual (Xemnas was certain he'd never been _this_ aware of every detail of the Diviner's features before), with all that was going on around them he was easily distracted.

Saix certainly seemed unaware of the whole thing, which was another reason why Xemnas doubted himself, for if the Diviner hadn't sensed anything amiss, then surely there was nothing wrong. It could well all just be in Xemnas' head.

Watching the graceless fools striding in and out of buildings through swinging doors, Xemnas raised a brow beneath his hood. Next to him Saix was even less impressed. He hadn't stopped growling since they'd stepped foot out of the portal. While the drunken humiliation so shamelessly embraced by these humans was almost painful to look at, Xemnas knew what was infuriating Saix the most: all these useful hearts, still trapped within these useless idiots.

Be it because he'd really been a werewolf in his former life, or be it that the loss of his heart had severed any link to humanity, Saix hated mankind. Most of the Organization were just indifferent towards the lives of humans; others were fuelled by the misconception of envy. Saix _hated _humans. Had he not joined the Organization where his rage could be kept in check he would have probably dedicated his life to destroying the entire race.

"Soon, Saix," Xemnas promised as they passed sinful women who called out sly things to them, unafraid of the black robed figures. In this sea of forgettable faces, no one stood out unless they tried their very best. "Once we have rid ourselves of the keybearer all these worlds will be ours for the taking."

"Permission to voice my concerns, sir?"

Xemnas frowned. He thought that he'd at least set things straight between them, but Saix was still being very reserved. This was _not_ common for the Diviner, despite what many would believe. Saix was usually at his most vocal when he could not physically release his rage. A place like Port Royal, filled with so many people Saix was aching to kill but could not, should have had the Diviner ranting by now.

"Go ahead," Xemnas said, maybe too eagerly as he tried to get something, anything, out of his most trusted. Xemnas was a talker (as a few members had grumpily pointed out in the past, especially during meetings), but Saix was the only one who always showed genuine interest in what he had to say, and could always be relied on to keep the conversation going, asking question purely because he knew Xemnas wanted him to.

This lack of conversation between them right now was bothersome.

"About this mission II sent us on … " Saix said, carefully stepping over a pool of vomit. "I cannot help finding it suspect that such a powerful cure as described by X can be found in such an unsanitary environment."

"I thought so too," Xemnas said, stepping around the man who was still coughing up his dinner while his good friends pointed and laughed at his suffering, 'but with our numbers nearly halved we must take all precautions. While this location is questionable, Luxord's description was convincing, and he knows this world better than any of us."

The Superior was right, Saix assumed without question. X was a man of his word, albeit the meaning of his words could be treacherously vague. But he was indeed trustworthy. Then again …

"Do you not think that the others have been acting strange as of late, sir?' Saix asked. "VIII, IX and XIII can hardly be expected to behave normal, but II, III and X are usually more focussed than they have these past few days."

"They are simply restless because of the assignments," Xemnas said confidently, allowing himself a cruel smile. "I purposefully send them out to do the most menial of missions. Those who show disloyalty will be exterminated, but so far they have all done as told, so I will allow them some room to … vent. Once I am certain our organization is free of any inside threats, we will resume our plans without delay."

Saix hadn't told the Superior what IX had been mumbling about in the kitchen because he himself couldn't draw any conclusions just yet. Besides, whatever the rest were up to, they had let IX in on it, meaning it couldn't be anything serious: no one in their right mind would trust the Nocturne to keep anything bigger than a needle a secret (and even then, it was usually best not to introduce the boy to sharp object lest they wanted him to hurt himself).

"This is it," Xemnas announced when they found themselves standing in front of the Crusty Barnacle. "According to Xigbar, Luxord said that we are to ask for Captain Jack Sparrow, a gambling partner of his."

"Captain? As in a sea merchant?"

"As in a pirate."

Saix said nothing but Xemnas could feel the other's discontent triple, and he didn't fault him. Dealing with pirates was never a straight-forward affair. They'd hardly ever did anything if there wasn't something in it for them, usually for twice as much as the favour was worth.

Just as they were about to enter the doors flew open and out tumbled two men, viciously fighting, followed closely by the rotund barman who had thrown them out. The barman's moustache bristled and his sweaty, bald head was red.

"I ain't be 'aving troublemakers in 'ere!" he yelled after the men, who were too drunk to care. "Show yer face again in me pub an' I'll have yer arrested!"

"If you are quite done," Xemnas said, stepping forward to block the barkeeper from going back inside, "I would like a word with you."

"I only give rum an' ale, an' only if yer got the money to pay fer 'em," the barman huffed, not intimidated by the cloaked stranger. He was in such a bad mood that he didn't care if he was scaring off punters. He roughly pushed past the stranger, bumping shoulders. "I got tables ter replace an' a floor fulla broken glass an—!"

The wooden support column cracked, threatening to break entirely, as the 400 pound barman was slammed into it. _Now_ he was intimidated, because unlike the first stranger, who'd spoken in a polite and civil manner, this second one did not sound civil at all. He didn't even sound human. From within the all-concealing hood came growls that the barkeeper only ever heard from the feral dogs that often fought in the backstreets. And no ordinary human could have held him entirely off the ground with just one hand. And no ordinary human had fell yellow eyes that shone like these.

"I can assure you that it won't take up much of your time," the first stranger said as if there was nothing wrong with this scenario as he stood next to his growling companion, voice as patient as always. "We were told by a reliable source that Captain Jack Sparrow often frequents your … business. Is he in tonight?"

Unable to take his eyes off the yellow pair glaring up at him, the barman squeaked out an affirmative. Were those _claws_ he felt digging into his skin through the black glove?! He had spent his life laughing at the dedicated crowd who attended church every week, calling them superstitious sheep behind their backs. Now he tearfully prayed for divine intervention to save him from these demons.

"Could you specify where?" the first stranger asked and the barman thought he saw the gleam of orange eyes.

Who … What were these things? And did he want them in his pub? Certainly not, but he was too terrified to deny them anything.

"P-P-Please d-d-d-don't be c-causing a-a-any tr-trou-trouble, f-f-fine s-sirs," he begged. "I-I-I don-don't w-want a-a-any t-trouble."

"Trouble?" asked the stranger, sounding surprised, then chuckled. "All we want is to ask a few questions, then we'll be on our way."

"B-Back room," the barman pointed with a shaking hand. His weight was putting a lot of strain on his captured neck, but his captor wasn't even straining to keep him off the ground. "'E's w-w-w-with the g-girls. C-C-Can't miss'em."

"You have been most helpful," said the first stranger, satisfaction dripping from his deep voice. "We'll make sure not to step on the glass."

The stranger snapped his fingers and the barman was unkindly dropped like a sack of potatoes. Sweating and shaking, he remained on the floor, watching the backs of the tall figures entering his pub. He thought it over, then scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as his bent legs could carry him, abandoning his punters, _their_ safety be damned. All he cared for was getting himself to the safest sanctuary. Hopefully, there was a church nearby …

"Barney!" called a familiar voice as he bumbled past someone in the street. A hand grabbed the back of his apron strings. "My lad, you are in quite a hurry, and going in the wrong direction. Don't tell me you decided to close up early this fine evening!"

"Hugh?" the barman asked, looking back at the hooded figure, suddenly realizing that it looked not unlike the other two that had just prowled into his pub. Finally, the earlier warnings caught up with him—in his fright he'd forgotten that he should have been expecting those two.

"You look like you have seen a ghost!" the man known to those in town only by his name, Hugh Jameson, laughed, his face hidden by the shadows of his hood, only his sparkling blue eyes shining out at Barney the bartender.

"Worse!" Barney huffed, clutching his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "The devil 'imself had me by the throat! You didn't tell me yer friends were dangerous! Mixin' with pirates is one thing, but ter keep 'friends' like those … " He shook his round head. "Yer mad!"

"I never claimed otherwise!" Hugh said, chuckling sheepishly. There was something odd about his voice, Barney found. He sounded hoarse. "But my apologies, good Barney. I forgot to warn you that one of them can be a bit forceful at times. But this is good news. I had worried that they wouldn't find the pub in the first place. They have gone in, then?"

"Yeah, and I ain't goin' back there until they're gone!" He looked up at the hooded Hugh, who was staring off towards the pub. "What do they want wit Jack Sparrow? 'E stole from them?"

"No. Jack is only a detour; a distraction, if you like," Hugh said, his mirth returning.

"And 'e knows that yer sendin' in those two?"

"Of course. And I did remember to warn him about the dangers of prodding one of them."

"And 'e still agreed? Sparrow is cunnin', but 'e's also a coward. Why did 'e say yes?"

At this Hugh barked a laugh, his most jovial yet.

"He owes me."

"Sparrow owes yah a debt, and this is what you ask for payment?" Barney barely managed to summon enough air left in his lungs to wheeze out a weak laugh. "Any man who be lucky enough to have that scoundrel ow'em anythin' wouldn't waste it on just anythin'. You 'aven't, have you?"

"No," Hugh said, already walking away. He turned to walk backwards, spreading out his arms and bowing, "but I thank you for your concerns, my good man. What I am doing means everything to myself and my fellows. If you don't want to see more, keep running."

And Barney did just that, now twice as fast as before, huffing as he looked around for anything remotely church-like.

Watching the fat man go, 'Hugh' shook his head. Things were never dull in Port Royal, and now that the unknowing duo of the Superior and Saix had already begun to stir things up, the night could only get better.

"Lady Luck will smile on me tonight," Luxord said to himself smugly and walked towards the tavern, whistling as he passed two men trying to dunk a third man's head into the open sewer.

* * *

"Disgusting," Saix hissed, ripping off his glove and producing a new one out of plain air, faster than anyone could notice. "I could feel the fat oozing out of him."

Xemnas smirked but was more interested in the sight before them than placating the Diviner.

He'd never admit it, but being the naturally curious being that he was, he was rather taken up with this place. He'd never been in a tavern (or "pub", as the barman called it). Everything he knew of these places he learned from the reports of those who'd frequented them—Luxord, mostly, though Xigbar wasn't above dropping in for a drink when he should be out finding new Nobodies.

For the most part, the reports had been accurate enough. It did stink of smoke and alcohol and unwashed armpits, and there wasn't a single piece of furniture that was undamaged, and if any of the men in here could still walk in a straight line Xemnas would give Demyx that pet dragon the boy was always pining for.

"Intriguing, isn't it, VII?" he asked Saix as they weaved between the crooked tables, reverting to using their numbers in case anyone was listening, though Xemnas would bet a pet dragon _and_ a pet basilisk that no one would be able to remember anything they'd seen, heard or done come the next morning. "To think that humans consider this as a form of entertainment."

"Disgusting," Saix repeated with even more venom, snatching his hand away from a woman wearing heavy rouge as she and her pinched bosom tried to catch his attention.

"Ey!" a man stepped out and shouted in Xemnas' face, grinning stupidly. "Yer busy?"

"As a matter of fact—" Xemnas stepped aside, not appreciating the invasion of personal space. A hairy arm was slung over his neck and at once he understood Saix's revulsion at having to touch any of these humans: he too felt as if all the man's stench was seeping through his cloak and into his pores.

"We need another," the man said, pointing to where four men were hunched over a beaten table, cards set and ready. "Make things more fun. Come on!"

"No," Xemnas said, smoothly slipping out of the hold, leaving the confused man to stare at the spot he'd been in a second ago. The only reason the man's head was still attached to his neck was because Xemnas was holding out an arm to restrain Saix. "I'm sure there are many others who'd love to join your game."

"Them coats look real nice. Could fetch quite a bit," the man said, tugging on Xemnas' sleeve, letting know his true intent. "We'll play yer for them."

"We do not wish to part with them."

Now the man was becoming angry. His brow wrinkled and his friends quickly formed a tight circle around the two.

"I said," the man sneered, "we'll be playing ya for yer coats. Either that or we'll take'em right off yer backs. And be a man and show yer face when talking to someone!"

He yanked off Xemnas' hood.

It couldn't be said with certainty whether the wide eyed look on the man's face was because of the steely orange eyes glaring at him, or because of the fist that buried itself deep in his stomach. What was certain was that in less time than it took for his friends to realize what had happened the man lay at Xemnas' feet, unmoving.

Xemnas' rubbed his knuckles. He rarely resorted to violence to solve such trivial matters, but it was either do it himself or let Saix have the honours, and Xemnas' way was the least bloody of the two. They still had business to do here and had already drawn much attention to themselves. At least punching wasn't that out of place in a pub; a man being ripped to shreds would stand out a bit.

Leaving the crowd to wonder whether the man was dead or not, Xemnas continued towards the backroom but when he felt someone touch the back of his neck he spun around and shoved the other against the wall, expecting one of the man's friends.

"Your hood, sir," Saix said, not trying to free his hand despite the painful twist Xemnas was giving it. "Your identity … "

"Ah," Xemnas said, and pulled back on his hood. He began walking again only to feel a tug on his arm a few seconds later. Without turning, he asked, "What is it, VII?"

" … May I have my hand back, sir?"

Xemnas looked down to find that he still had a tight grip on Saix's wrist. He quickly let go, almost as if he were throwing the hand away from him. He was very grateful that his hood was up to hide the nervous shifting of his eyes. Without a word of explanation he moved on.

Saix, rubbing his wrist, followed wordlessly. The Superior didn't have to explain himself. Out of respect, Saix did not push the subject, though he couldn't help puzzling over what to make of the fact that the Superior's thumb had stroked the top of his hand, apparently without the Superior's active knowledge.

'Not my place to question,' Saix told himself, roughly pushing away another wench as she slinked up next to him.

He didn't care that she was a woman: he'd always thought the 'Don't hit girls' rule was overrated, ridiculous and impractical to boot. Women could be just as bothersome as men, if not more because they were under the impression that as the weaker sex they were entitled to do as they please without retaliation. Saix held no reservations. Men, women, children, elderly, disabled: anyone who made a pest of themselves would be dealt with swiftly and painfully.

Except IX … the simpering idiot.

Aware that Saix had just shoved a woman into the lap of a surprised but now happy man, Xemnas didn't pretend to be affronted, though he didn't condone it either. But it was good to see that his slip-up had already been forgotten by Saix. More than anything, he tried very hard to remember whether stroking the Diviner's hand had really happened, or whether it was just a figment of his imagination.

'Why hadn't I noticed it?' he wonder, glancing to the side where Saix walked next to him. 'I should have noticed that I was holding him, but I didn't. I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary. It had felt … natural? Normal? Like it was perfectly normal … '

But it wasn't normal, especially for him. What could his subconscious mind, which he wholly blamed for the awkwardness, have been thinking? Had he done it to hurry Saix along; to just get this all over with? No, Saix wasn't exactly loitering around either. So, that excuse was void. Perhaps he'd held onto Saix to restrain him from attacking the men. But, then again, Saix hadn't shown any signs of finishing what Xemnas already had. Ah, maybe he had …

Xemnas was out of excuses. The only theory he could come up with (and outright refuse to accept) was that he'd just … wanted to hold Saix's hand.

Incorrect. Ridiculous. Improbable. Absurd. Downright wrong.

" … so strapping the horse to the whale, I rode off the island on the surf to safety, using my bandana as a sail to catch the hurricane's wind!"

And speaking of wrong …

"Jack Sparrow, I presume," Xemnas said to the bearded man lounging in a corner of the dingy backroom, five wenches draped around him, entranced by what sounded to be the dumbest escape story Xemnas had ever heard—and that included Axel's claim of having once escaped a prison cell by using mind control to get a mouse to steal the keys for him.

"_Captain_. Captain Jack Sparrow," the man said with a slur, half-lidded eyes looking between Xemnas and Saix. A flailing hand was raised as Sparrow gestured from one to the other. "Which … Which one am I looking at?"

"There is an important matter we need to speak to you about," Xemnas said, purposefully saying 'we' so that the man knew that he wasn't seeing double. "We'd prefer to speak to you alone."

The girls pouted and protested, clinging to Sparrow and glaring at Xemnas, who had to place a hand on Saix's shoulder to silently stop the Diviner from silencing the women with his claws. He could feel the tense muscles of Saix shoulders through the material, ready to pounce. He could feel every little shiver of Saix's body.

"We are friends of a gambling partner of yours called Hugh Jameson," Xemnas said, letting the other go so suddenly it was as though he'd been burned.

"Hugh? Hugh. Hugh … Huuuugh," Sparrow drawled, counting off his fingers with each repetition of the name. His kohl-smeared eyes went wide. "Ah, Hugh! Where is the old scallywag? Haven't had a decent game in weeks."

Xemnas gestured to the women and Sparrow got the message.

"Right, girls, off you go," he said, pushing them to their feet, unnecessarily keeping his hand on their rears to send them on their way, which made the shameless charlatans squeal and giggle. "The captain has to be a good host to his new friends."

Resigned, the women filed out and quickly found other men who were grateful for their company.

"Welcome!" Sparrow grinned, revealing a mouth of gold and silver and yellow teeth. He used his feet to push out two chairs. "What is your pleasure? Rum? Women? More rum? A game? The head of Barbossa? Did I mention rum? Or information on the whereabouts of the Black Pearl?"

"Actually," Xemnas said, taking a seat while Saix remained standing next to him, "we came seeking _your_ knowledge of the whereabouts of another item."

"Then before I can tell you where to find that which has to be found and which you sought me out to seek, it would be fair for me to see who you are," Sparrow said, using garbled words to get straight to the point. He looked between Xemnas and Saix, trying to penetrate the darkness beneath the hoods, and failed. "You share the same fashion sense as Hugh, but how do I know you're not his enemies looking to make enemies with his friends?"

Saix didn't like this confident man one bit, partly because that smarmy confidence reminded him too much of that traitorous XI. That aside, from his garish appearance to his body odour to his slurred speech, Jack Sparrow looked every bit the part of a swindler, a coward and a bona fide liar. That he could look so at home in the dank, smoky tavern told Saix all he needed to know.

And now the man was demanding they reveal themselves! Luxord, even with his hood down, could easily mingle with this crowd and no one would look twice. But Saix and the Superior's faces and colouring weren't as forgettable. They wore the hoods for the very reason to leave no lasting memories in the minds of others, to avoid detection and questioning.

"Very well," the Superior said, despite Saix's extreme reservations. He pulled off his hood. "We have nothing to hide, and we won't be staying here for long."

When both turned to him Saix had no choice but to reveal his face. Sparrow looked mildly intimidated, but he then grinned.

"You've been branded too, I see," he said pointing at Saix's scar. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a P that had been burned into his forearm. "Pity, really, being categorized like cattle. This here's marks me as an independent goods handler."

"A pirate," Saix said plainly.

"Same thing," Sparrow waved off. "What did you get marked for? A great big X like that … Is it some seal of rejection?"

"That is of no importance," Xemnas said, holding up his hand when Saix hissed. "As you have noticed, Hugh hasn't been here in a while. He and a few others of our group have been struck down by a disease, and according to him the cure can be found in this town."

Saix was highly suspicious of the gleam in those beetle-black eyes as Sparrow grinned even wider.

"Did he now? Not sure I know what that could be, though." He stroked one of the two braided strands on his chin, the gaudy rings of his finger glimmering in the candlelight. "What exactly is this disease? I've seen Hugh empty an entire barrel of rum in one sitting; it ain't like him to go down because of a little cold."

"He gave no name, but he did say that this disease stems from Port Royal—"

"Unsurprisingly," Saix couldn't stop himself from interjecting, noticing for the first time the mould growing on the wooden beams, and the cockroaches that were feasting on it.

"—and that the indigenous cure for it are these so-called rum apples," Xemnas finished.

"Rum? Aye, now that's one of my specialities."

"I can tell," Xemnas said, sitting back, unable to take the stench coming from the pirate's mouth any longer. "So, where can these rum apples be acquired?"

"As it just so happens, I have some on my personals."

"How convenient," Saix snarled. "Why would you be carrying any?"

"Beat me in a game of Liar's Dice and I'll give you the apples and an answer," Sparrow said, producing two cups and ten dice and grinning widely at the two Nobodies. "That is, if you know how to play it."

Xemnas frowned. He'd read about the game in Luxord's reports, but had never heard any of the rules, and he wouldn't trust the pirate to explain them to him fairly.

"And what if we lose?" he asked, stalling for time. "What would we have to give you in return?"

"What do you have?" Sparrow countered.

A Nobody's only true possession was his weapons, which were bound to them by an unbreakable force. Saix would scatter replicas of his claymore in battle—to confuse his opponents—but those would quickly fade away and the original was always within reach of its owner. And even if it were physically possible to part with their weapons, no self-respecting Nobody ever would. Xemnas himself would never dream of parting with his aerial blades, and giving the precious weapons to someone like Sparrow was an even more repugnant thought.

"We carry nothing of interest," Xemnas said.

"Then you wouldn't mind parting with any of it," Sparrow grinned his horrific grin.

"We would mind, especially to the likes of you," Saix snarled with enough finality to make it clear that the pirate would not be getting any goods off of them.

"I'm a captain," Sparrow began randomly, shifting the covered dice in the cups around. "The Black Pearl is my ship, which I intend to regain soon. But as you can see, there's something else missing."

Xemnas studied the man. Sparrow himself looked 'complete': he had his pirate regalia, and his sword and a gun. As a person, he needed nothing. As a captain, however …

"You have no men."

"Precisely, mate," Sparrow grinned. "I'm a captain without a ship and without a crew to help me reclaim the ship, which has been commandeered by my former first mate who has turned himself and my former crew into an unsavoury band of the not-living-but-not-that-much-dead."

"Not living … but not that much dead?" Xemnas repeated, in his mind calculating the possibilities of the men having been turned into Nobodies. Such a large amount at one time sounded very unlikely. Plus, only the strongest hearts could leave behind an empty shell, a Nobody, and it was a laughable concept that a bunch of lowly pirates would possess such powerful hearts in the first place. "Do you mean something akin to zombies?"

"Almost, but not really. Depends on the moon. Savvy?"

Now this was something Saix understood completely. No matter what sort of world, the moon had its influence in each. He was familiar with the description the pirate had provided: the unfortunate idiots had somehow gotten their hands on a cursed item that granted them immortality, but in return left them unable to feel or even eat, with the true extent of their decayed condition revealed only when caught in the moonlight. While he had great respect for every moon and its powers, Saix did not envy the captain's former underlings.

"You may have lost your crew and your vessel," Xemnas said, "but I am a more responsible leader who will not abandon his duties to go off chasing ghost ships."

"Then your scarred friend," Sparrow said after a moment's thought. "I need a good, strong fighter on my side. It will only be a temporary service: once I get back the Pearl he will be free to return to your little group. Do we have a deal?"

Saix was already confident that the Superior would never agree to such an arrangement, but even he blinked when the Superior lunged forward and grabbed the pirate by his stringy goatee, forcing Sparrow's chin down to the table with a slam of his gloved fist. Both the pirate and the Diviner stared at the Superior with surprised eyes (and, in Sparrow's case, pained ones as well).

"I will not bargain off my subordinates," Xemnas growled at the captured man, threatening to rip those ridiculous strands of facial hair right out as he tightened his fist. "Our numbers have already been counted and I will not lose a single member more. _Especially_ not Saix!"

It was turning out to be one of the most surprising nights in Saix's recent memory. First, the Superior grabbing his hand and calling his name back in his office, then the Superior holding his hand some minutes ago, and now this vicious refusal. Saix had thought that, of all the members, he was the one who knew and understood the Superior the best, but the Superior's behaviour was getting more and more erratic, unpredictable.

Xemnas, in turn, was beginning to think that he didn't understand himself anymore either. Such moments of lost control were not common for him. And what was this odd sensation that had spiked his actions just now? He …It was impossible, he was sure, but theoretically his reaction could have only been spurned by intense emotions, perhaps rage.

But they were _Nobodies_! They had no hearts, and without hearts they couldn't feel emotions!

Then what the hell was he doing? He _had_ reacted, and for a split moment he'd been overwhelmed with the need to protect what was his and his alone and—

Xemnas' hand went slack and Sparrow sat back, testing his jaw to make sure it hadn't been dislocated. Though he stared the pirate right in the eyes, Xemnas' mind was focussed on itself; on what had gone through it five seconds ago. He hadn't been thinking of Saix at the time … right? Surely not. He didn't think of himself as owning any of his followers. Controlling them, yes, but not owning them.

"You make a good point, mate," Sparrow said, still rubbing his chin, "but I wouldn't be an honourable pirate if I did things out of the kindness of my heart. It has to be an eye for an eye."

Seeing the still confused look in his leader's eyes, Saix went against his principals and stepped in to intervene on the Superior's behalf.

"I accept your proposal. If you win, I will join you in your quest to find your ship," he said, taking the seat next to the Superior. "But,_ I_ will be your opponent in this game."

Xemnas turned with a disapproving frown, ready to overrule Saix's decision. The yellow eyes met his, gleaming apologetically for having taken command of the situation in presence of his leader, but also steadfast that he knew what he was doing. Xemnas trusted that the Diviner wasn't about to make a dire mistake: if he lost then not only would they have failed in retrieving the rum apples needed to cure the others, but Xemnas would be losing his most faithful follower.

"Wonderful!" Sparrow clapped his hand, the attack on his being already forgotten. "To be fair, I'll tell you the rules!"

* * *

The three were too absorbed in the game to notice Luxord hovering just out of sight near the doorway, carefully peeking in on what was happening. Running his finger over the flaky, patchy stubble on his chin, he thought to himself that not even he, the Gambler of Fate, would have betted on Saix knowing the first thing about Liar's Dice. Port Royal was one of the Diviner's least favourite places, and he'd only come here if the mission promised that a few "mysterious" local deaths would be acceptable.

Even the Superior wouldn't force Saix to come here unless there was really no other option.

So then, Luxord wondered, what gave Saix this confidence that he could beat, of all people, Jack Sparrow in a game of dice? Luxord had done so plenty of times, but only because gambling was one of his gifts, and because he knew Sparrow well enough to keep a keen eye out for any trickery. Saix didn't gamble. He never participated in any card games back at the castle, nor did he approve of the others playing any.

'What are you thinking, Saix?' Luxord asked silently. 'Why are you getting yourself involved with something you know nothing of … ?'

* * *

Saix knew absolutely nothing about this game. He'd skimmed over vague mentions of it in a few reports, but had quickly moved on without memorizing anything.

But, they'd come here for a reason, and the only way they were going to succeed in getting those apples was to beat Sparrow at his own game. Of course, they could also drag Sparrow off somewhere remote and torture him until he surrenders his knowledge, but the Superior had made it clear he wanted this to go as blood-free as possible.

Having stepped up and challenged Sparrow to face him, Saix had put both his services and his pride on the line, but … it had to be done. It was either this or watch the Superior be cheated out of a victory by this mongrel.

Normally, Saix would never be so bold as to take control of a situation so long as the Superior was there to do it himself, but something wasn't quite right with the Superior tonight. He looked both distracted and very thoughtful, and clearly had a lot of things on his mind that would impede his decision making. Sparrow was a con artist by trade and nature, and would use that to his advantage.

The thought of the Superior losing to someone like Sparrow was unbearable for Saix.

At least, if Saix himself lost, he'd be sparing the Superior's pride.

As Sparrow went through the rules at breakneck pace, Saix took notice of a few key points. But he knew this wasn't something he could win with wits alone. He didn't have the great mind of the Superior, or those of former team mates IV and VI.

"Savvy, mate?" Sparrow asked once he'd finished listing the rules. Scooping the dice in the his cup, he shook it once and slammed it back down on the table. "Since you're pressed for time, let's make this a one-off, aye?"

Saix copied the man's technique and they both tipped back their respective cup to glance at their dice.

* * *

"And?" a voice whispered in Luxord's ear, almost making him drop his glass.

"Xigbar!" he hissed softly, pushing the other away from the doorway; two of them hovering around the door were more likely to draw attention to themselves. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, 'Hugh'," the other answered, very amused by the alias. "Besides, things were getting boring back at headquarters. Xaldin's no longer sensitive to light and Axel's hair is already growing back. Plus, flirting with him is starting to get old. I left Demyx in charge, should anyone still need un-diseased assistance."

"Demyx?" Luxord asked with a doubtful arching of his brow, though Xigbar couldn't see this under the hood.

"He's a good kid," Xigbar shrugged, inching back into the doorway. "He'll try his best."

"Which always ends with him injuring himself," Luxord said, but he dropped the subject with the assurance that, whatever horrible things went wrong under Demyx's supervision, all of the blame would be placed squarely on II's shoulders. "You only came here to spy on them, haven't you?"

"There's also a very valid reason for my presence, old chap," Xigbar said, mimicking Luxord's accent with scary accuracy before slipping back into his common drawl. "Like I said, the rash is starting to clear up. If the Superior comes back and finds everyone healthy he'll be onto us. It's taking too long. We've got to hurry them up somehow if we want them to return with the rum apples with the impression that they're just in time to save the 'diseased'."

"It shouldn't be long now," Luxord said, watching the scene before him with disbelieving eyes. "They're playing Liar's Dice."

Xigbar used his one eye to peer around his comrade.

Both Saix and Sparrow sat motionless; one of them had just raised the bar and the other was now struggling between calling the bluff or raising the bid even more. What was so surprising about it was that it was Saix who had the more experienced gambler fidgeting. Xigbar had never met Sparrow in person, but he'd heard enough of the man to know that the pirate captain was so slick he had slipped out of the law's grasp on many occasions. Yet there he was, glancing under his cup every few seconds as if hoping the dice would magically flip themselves over, while Saix did what he did best: glare.

"Our Diviner has a poker face that makes me envious," Luxord whispered to Xigbar. "If he were more agreeable I'd have snatched him up as my permanent gambling partner. But how could he have figured out the rules of Liar's Dice so quickly?"

"He hasn't," Xigbar said, swiping Luxord's glass to drain it of its content with one swig. "If you were to ask him he would probably be able to repeat three or four rules, at most. But this ain't a game that needs a strong mind to win it. All you need to know is when someone's bluffing."

"Indeed. It's a game that boils down to reading your opponent and deciding whether he's lying or not," Luxord said, unimpressed when he was handed back the empty glass, but impressed by Xigbar's rare show of thoughtful observation. The Freeshooter may have been one of Ansem's apprentices in the past, but it was all too easy to forget how intelligent II could be when you had to put up with his daily obnoxiousness most of the time. "And when it comes to instincts, Saix's is the keenest of us all. Which means … "

* * *

"Liar," Saix said bluntly and revealed his high and even numbers while the pirate sighed and lifted his own cup in defeat.

"Sharp, mate," Sparrow conceded, surrendering gracefully despite having been beaten by a newcomer. "I think you read my mind."

"I've seen writhing rodents less twitchy than you," Saix said with little flourish or triumph as he vacated his seat, handing the situation back to the Superior, where he believed it rightfully belonged.

The only thing that belonged on Xemnas' side, according to his own mind, was Saix, and having gotten what he wanted definitely improved his mood. Forgetting all the previous slip-ups, Xemnas gave the sulking pirate a hard look. Even though they'd won he was still expecting the man to try and weasel them into another bet. Xemnas couldn't imagine a common ship to be worth the effort, but with his patience already thinned he wasn't willing to play anymore games, and if Sparrow didn't produce those damn rum apples Xemnas would resort to using force.

"I see you aren't interested in another game," Sparrow guessed rightly. He sighed and flicked a matted lock of hair out of his face as he gathered the dice and cups. "But I'm a pirate of my word. Here."

The burning stench of alcohol coming from the jar the pirate took out from under his chair smelled like the contents would sooner kill a man rather than heal him. Xemnas stared at the pieces of fruit floating in the toxic concoction of rum and wondered which would be worse: dead underlings or drunk underlings. Still, he took the jar of rum, with some reservation.

"Always handy to have one of those on you," Sparrow said, kicking up his feet to rest his dirty boots on the table. "Never know what you might encounter on the open seas."

Which would make sense if the man had a ship to begin with, but he didn't, so the explanation left Saix more suspicious than ever. Also irritating was the strong feeling that they were being watched, but every time he looked over his shoulder he only saw inebriated patrons stumbling about beyond the doorway. He was just about to use his powers of scanning when the Superior stood.

"It was an enlightening evening," Xemnas said, refusing to shake the pirate's bandaged hand. "I wish you luck in acquiring a crew and reclaiming your lost vessel."

"And you will always remember this as the day you managed to defeat Jack Sparrow," the pirate captain said, giving a flailing salute.

Saix felt that the act of stepping on a cockroach would deserve more recognition than defeating Sparrow in anything, but he said nothing. He didn't want to draw out this experience any longer. Already banishing the memory of the smelly pirate, he docilely followed the Superior out of the backroom, assuring himself that all that was left was a quick walk through the tavern and then they'd be outside, where they'd only need to find a dark alley in which to open a portal and return to their sterile, idiot-free world. Yes, he was so fed up with these drunkards that, compared to them, he found VII and IX to be relatively tolerable.

As they stepped out of the backroom Saix caught the flutter of what looked like black cloaks out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned all he saw were the colourful fabric of women's dresses as they lay sprawled in a heap on some benches against the far wall. Glaring at them for a moment, convinced of what he'd seen, Saix had no choice but to abandon his scrutiny when the Superior crisply called him, reminding him that neither of them wanted to be here for much longer.

* * *

"Is he still looking?" Luxord ask, blowing a ringlet of blond hair from his face, making the woman in his lap giggle.

Not all that focussed as flirtatious hands caressed his chest and legs, Xigbar needed a moment to process the other's words.

"Huh? … Oh, er …" Pushing a winking woman's head to one side, he searched the room. "No. They've gone outside."

"We should follow them."

"What? Right now?" Xigbar pouted, which was revealed when the girl next to him pulled off his hood. Luckily, the rash on his face had already cleared up, and rather than be intimidated by his battle scars, the women only swooned and draped themselves over him even more. Grinning roguishly at Luxord, who had already extracted himself from the pile they'd all but thrown themselves into when the Superior and Saix had suddenly exited the backroom, Xigbar nodded towards the eager women. "What could possibly go wrong? Damn, Hugh, you never told me how much fun this place is! I always go to the one near the docks."

Luxord rolled his eyes and grabbed the Freeshooter by the arm, which was heavily protested by both Xigbar and the women as he was dragged off.

"To think that you are my superior," Luxord sighed, letting go of the other only once they were outside.

"Which means I should punish you for such disrespect and disregard for my authority," Xigbar sneered with little malice, not half as annoyed as he pretended to be.

They both looked up and down the street for the hooded figures and when they saw none they carefully crept along, checking the alleys, which were always a favourite spot of Organization members to portal their way in and out of worlds.

* * *

With the exception of the loud but muffled voices indoors, and a dog barking somewhere behind a house, the street was for the most part silent, with only a few people slinking about, none of them paying the two Nobodies any mind. The light drizzle slid harmlessly off their cloaks but the falling water intensified the stench of garbage in the air. The combined elements of wet and stink had Xemnas looking forward to the dry, scentless halls of the Castle That Never Was.

"His sense of personal hygiene is deplorable, but his heart is strong," he said as they walked down the sloping road. "If separated from such a heart he would make a powerful Nobody."

He waited for Saix's objection to having someone like Sparrow join their ranks, but there came none. The Diviner's mind was elsewhere.

"What is it, Saix?" Xemnas asked when the Diviner looked behind them for what had to be the twentieth time since leaving the tavern. Xemnas had been walking with his hands behind his back (Saix was in possession of the jar), but now he folded them.

Rather than detaching himself from their location like he normally did when speaking, the Diviner was still busy studying it, looking back almost constantly.

"Nothing, sir."

"I wouldn't have thought you to waste your time on nothing."

Saix looked over his shoulder again, yellow eyes narrowed.

"I have the unshakable feeling that we are being followed, sir."

"In a town like this, hardly surprising. Common thieves looking to rob us, or friends of the man I incapacitated back in the tavern. Let them follow if they want: if they attack before we find a suitable location to open a portal you may dispose of them as you see fit." Xemnas smiled, earnestly impressed with how controlled Saix had been all evening. "After that presentation in the backroom you deserve a reward."

Saix almost missed a step. Had that been … sarcasm? Was the Superior displeased with him, again? Had he overstepped his boundaries too much when he challenged Sparrow in the Superior's place?

"My apologies, sir," he said quickly just as the Superior picked out a narrow alley for their purpose. "It was not done with the intent to offend you. I assumed, seeing how important it was we get this cure, and that it was my service that was being asked, I had to accept the pirate's proposal."

Xemnas hadn't meant anything bad by his words, but Saix's reaction made him turn.

"Are you implying that you did not trust me to win that game? That you thought I would lose to the likes of a stranded pirate?"

Saix shifted the jar in his arms, thinking hard to diffuse the tension.

"You looked … shaken, sir," he said with the greatest of care, respectfully averting his eyes. "Your behaviour has been unusual this evening. I did fear that you were not up for the challenge and that that man would use that to his advantage to best you through some foul loophole. It would have been a stolen victory over you, sir, and I could not allow myself to let that happen. I would have been ashamed if I'd let your honour be soiled at the hands of a pirate."

Xemnas didn't respond immediately. He was admittedly surprised at the confession. He'd expected Saix has only stepped in to get the meeting over and done with; to get the cure and leave. He'd even anticipated the Diviner admitting that he did not trust his fate in the hands of another, even if the hands belonged to his leader. But no, Saix had done it purely to protect Xemnas' honour; to prevent him from suffering defeat.

" … Then I owe you my gratitude," Xemnas said.

Saix looked even less comfortable with that.

"You owe me nothing, sir. It is my duty to serve you as best as I can. That pirate calls himself a captain, a leader, but he is a fool. I am not surprised that his followers shunned him in favour of another. Even if I had lost, I would have killed him sooner than serve him."

When the Superior didn't open a portal Saix assumed that he was waiting on him to do so. He transferred the jar to one arm and held out the other hand. The filth in the alley blew around them as a swirling vortex began to form.

"That wouldn't have been necessary."

"Sir?"

Xemnas was staring at the forming portal, feeling himself frowning at the thought of Saix serving anyone but him. Somewhere deep in his chest, he felt the memory of jealousy. Real or not, the idea of seeing the Diviner following someone else made him want to summon his aerial blades and do serious damage.

Saix was his servant. His confidant. He had taken the wild, uncultured Nobody and studied him, taught him, refined him. Saix had been the first Nobody they had encountered after losing their hearts, and, to Xemnas, he had been a glimmer of hope in the dark world of skyscrapers and neon signs. Xemnas had been lost, uncertain what to do next after having led his fellow apprentices to what at the time had seemed like certain doom, but the discovery of Saix had been the first step to them finding a purpose: to strengthen their numbers, and expand their knowledge. Xemnas' confidence had returned as he'd watched Saix's growth as a Nobody.

But now … his control was slipping.

He told himself that there was nothing to fear, but something else, something louder, was mocking him. Kingdom Hearts wasn't his, the Voice said, and neither was Saix. He didn't have the power yet to manipulate Kingdom Hearts, and he'd never have the power to completely control Saix, or any of the others.

But that Voice was lying. It had to be. Saix _was_ his. His most successful experiment. His most stable achievement. His closest ally.

"Sparrow would have been dead before he could even lay a victorious eye on you," he growled.

Abandoning the portal, Saix was about to scan his superior for any ailment when the Superior roughly grabbed him. Saix dropped the jar, but luckily there was so much dirt in the alley that it cushioned the fall. In the orange eyes, Saix saw the light of lunacy, as III called it; the spark of emotions their leader strongly denied. He couldn't tell if the Superior was even looking at him. But then the Superior said:

"You will serve no one other than me, Saix. Swear it, on Kingdom Hearts, that you will never betray me!"

It was almost an exact repeat of what had happened in the Bastion.

"Sir, on Kingdom Hearts, on my own heart, wherever it may be, I will never betray you," Saix said. Had the fumes of the tavern gotten to the Superior? Had Sparrow's noxious breath somehow poisoned him? "You are my leader, and I am your follower."

"Yes … yes, you are mine," the Superior muttered, staring at him directly.

The statement sounded odd to Saix. He didn't think it possible that someone could own another, but seeing the state the Superior was in, he went along with it, hoping to calm his leader down. Already the other's dark skin looked flushed, especially across the cheeks.

"_He's not yours … and neither is Kingdom Hearts,"_ said the Voice in Xemnas' head, chuckling at his defiance. _"You will lose them, Xehanort. They are both too powerful for you to control. How does it feel, knowing that one day in the future, you'll find yourself alone? Lost? Kingdom Hearts will crumble, and the Diviner will fall along with it. In the end, you will lose them both, because they aren't yours to have. You don't deserve either of them."_

"Silence!" Xemnas cried, grabbing his head.

What was happening? How could he be losing this much control so quickly?

He pushed Saix away and slouched back against the nearest wall, tugging as his hair as the voice went on.

"_You have no control over your followers. You could not control Marluxia, and because of that your lost others. Your followers, your friends … Even, Aeleus, Ienzo; they died because you weren't powerful enough. You doomed them all, because you could not control the experiments in the Bastion."_

"Sir!" Saix said loudly when the Superior sank to the ground. He tried to pull the Superior to his feet but was instead pulled down to his knees, his forearms gripped with bruising force.

"Did I lose …? Did I lose it all?" the Superior was muttering. "Am I … not strong enough?"

"You are," Said said fiercely. "You're the Superior."

Xemnas shook his head, staring at the toes of Saix's boots.

"Is that enough? What if it isn't?"

"Kingdom Hearts will give us power, sir. You said so yourself."

"Give me power? You believe I need it? Then you do _not_ believe that I am already powerful enough," Xemnas said, raising his eyes. "You do not think I'm worthy of being your leader."

"I do not follow you for your power," Saix hissed at the accusation. "I follow you because, without you, I would have remained an animal. You gave me back my mind and my dignity."

"But what about your heart?" Xemnas said, parroting the Voice in his head that cruelly asked the same question. "What if I cannot give that back to you? What if, in the end, I fail you all, just as I failed Even and Aeleus and Ienzo? What would you think of me then?"

Never. Saix had never heard the Superior speak of failure. Was this genuine concern, or was the fever eating away at his mind?

When Saix didn't answer the Voice laughed. To have defeated a pirate at his own game, only to lose to a voice in his own head …

"If we recover our hearts, we will forever be indebted to you, sir," Saix voice broke through the mocking laughter. "But even if I never regain my heart, I would still follow you. As long as I am by your side, I have a purpose. I would truly be a nobody without you, Superior. That is why I cannot, and will not, abandon you."

The Diviner was looking at him, concerned but steadfast. Xemnas saw someone admirable before him, and remembered that it was he who Saix admired the most. And here he was, sitting in a filthy alley, needing motivation from his follower when it was he who should be the motivator.

He allowed Saix to help him to his feet, but then pulled himself together, showing no traces of doubt. _He_ was the Superior. _He_ was their leader, a good one, and he would prove the Voice wrong and lead his followers to victory. They would get their hearts back, and maybe, just maybe, he will be able to earnestly feel grateful and proud of those who continued to follow him, no matter what.

"Are you alright now, Superior?"

Saix stood before him, jar in one hand, the other prepared to open a new portal.

"_You don't own him."_

'I won't lose him,' Xemnas snapped back at the Voice.

"_Then claim him,"_ it suddenly encouraged.

' … What?'

"_If he's truly yours, prove it."_

'I need not prove anything to the likes of you.'

"_Me?"_ The voice laughed_. "Who do you think I am? A spell cast by a faraway enemy? You still don't recognize me?"_ The voice grew serious. _"I am you, Xehanort. You forgot me; you forgot yourself. When you became a Nobody, you shunned who you were. Trying to convince yourself that you feel nothing without your heart, because it's easier to blame that which is missing, rather than that which is still with you. Because you've made it your purpose in life to complete Kingdom Hearts, you made yourself out to be a victim, and convinced your underlings likewise."_

'I know myself better than anyone!'

"_Then you know what you want."_

'Which is?'

"_This."_

'What "this"?'

Suddenly, he became aware that, at some point, his lips had pressed hard against something soft. As he became aware of the world around him once more, he felt his tongue running over something sharp as his fingers dug into tense shoulders as he pinned them against a wall. He pulled back, tasting the blood in his mouth where he'd cut his tongue on a fang. Saix was staring at him with the widest eyes ever, blue hair tousled as he'd briefly struggled against the kiss before being overwhelmed with shock.

"Superior?"

"_Yours … "_

' … Mine.'

Shoving Saix back when the Diviner tried to loosen the hold, Xemnas kissed him even harder, spurred by the delicious taste of satisfaction as he felt the lips against his. Wrapping the wet hair around his fist, he forced the other closer. He needed more of it. He couldn't get enough of the feeling. It was like desperately trying to quench a thirst, drinking cup after cup. More and more … just a bit more … not enough … he couldn't stop …

The alley exploded with light and Xemnas' back hit the opposite wall with enough force to leave cracks in the stone. He'd never seen Saix use his magic to its full extent (the Diviner preferred his claymore over spells), but he knew the other had held back; that Saix had used magic at all made it clear that the kiss had rattled him enough to forcefully separate them.

"Saix," Xemnas winced, touching the still burning spot on his front where Saix's hand had connected with his chest. "What … "

Saix noticed his hand trembling and quickly lowered it, stunned, disgusted.

He'd struck his Superior.

He'd behaved aggressively towards the one he'd just vehemently sworn his fealty to. Whatever the reason, his reaction had been completely out of order.

"Saix," the Superior said again, taking a step forward.

Saix threw out his hand and opened a portal. Feeling that an apology would be too feeble an excuse right now, he bowed deeply and fled into the portal, closing it behind him.

"Saix!"

Xemnas stared at the jar of rum apples, which Saix had dropped a second time. Picking it up, Xemnas wasn't sure what he was thinking. One part of him was insulted by the rejection; another part told him said that it was he who had acted irrationally; and then there was the part that wanted to chase after Saix, though what he'd do once he caught up with him, Xemnas didn't know.

"This is your fault," he growled.

"_Yes, it is entirely your fault,"_ the Voice answered. _"As you well know, you do not own him. You do not own Kingdom Hearts. You may have already lost Saix; how long will it be before you lose Kingdom Hearts, and then everything?"_

Xemnas said nothing. He'd never lost an argument to anyone. Thus, it made sense that he'd never win one against himself.

Standing alone in the reeking, wet alley, with a jar of rum apples in his hands, and without his most faithful follower, Xemnas could not deny the wave of frustration that crashed over him. Though it was impossible to run away from himself, he still opened a portal and marched through, trying to give himself the impression that he could put everything behind him.

* * *

"…What the bloody hell was that all about?" Luxord asked the equally befuddled Freeshooter from where they stood at the mouth of the now empty alley.

They had watched the Superior's unexpected breakdown in secret, and had Saix not succeeded in talking the Superior to his senses, both Luxord and Xigbar would have rushed to help, their cover be damned. Xigbar, especially, had been stunned to see the Superior in such a state. Even back when they'd been apprentices, Xehanort had been the cockiest, most self-assured of them all. His ego had only grown when he became the Superior.

So worried had they been about his deteriorating control, and then so relieved when Saix had managed to bring back the old Superior, that the kiss hadn't registered at first. It wasn't until the Superior had moved in for a second, more intense kiss that Xigbar had elbowed Luxord and the two had looked at each other with the greatest surprise. Together they had to stifle their disbelieving laughs of triumphs.

There, in an alley, in the rain, had been the Superior and Saix, locking lips with the fervent need of drowning men gasping for air. At least, the Superior had been, whereas poor Saix had been stupefied. Still, it had been a moment of victory, and both Luxord and Xigbar knew that Axel would be beside himself with envy that he hadn't been there to personally witness the success of his Master plan.

Seconds later, both Luxord and Xigbar decided that it was a good thing Axel hadn't been there, as he would have been pulled out his newly grown hair at the sight of Saix blasting the Superior away like that. After many uncomfortable moments watching the Superior's confusing behaviour, they released their breaths when he finally left through another portal.

"Saix … attacked the Superior," Luxord said when Xigbar hadn't yet found his tongue. "I never thought I'd say those four words. What now, sir?"

It wasn't often someone spoke to him as a superior, but it worked to bring Xigbar round.

"We get back to the castle before the Superior notices us missing," he said, choosing to open a portal in another alley to avoid accidentally coming across either the Superior or Saix in the Corridors. "First, we 'heal' the others, and yourself. Then, if he hasn't returned by then, we find Saix. Can't believe he attacked the Superior. I was sure he'd go along with whatever Xemnas did. Damn the independent mind!"

They hurried down the street, in search of a usable alley. They said nothing until Luxord, unable to resist, said, "You have to admit, that was quite a snog, though."

Xigbar's loud laugh made the whores on the corner turn away from talking to potential patrons.

"You're a sick man, Luxord!" he said, slapping the other's wet shoulder, unintentionally aggravating the sensitive skin there.

"And so are you," Luxord winced.

"Definitely," Xigbar said, indirectly admitting that the sight of the two Nobodies kissing had not left him unfazed, "but I just thought that, as an Englishman, you had more self-control than to say it out loud."

"Hah!" Luxord scoffed. "I thought the Superior had self-control, and look what he did!"

"You know what they say: what happens in Port Royal, stays in Port Royal."

" … You think the ones who say that are idiots, don't you?" Luxord smirked.

"Fuck yeah! Can't wait to see Axel's face when we tell him!" Xigbar held out his hands and laughed up at the rainy skies. "Man, I love this town!"

Tbc ...

* * *

A/N: I totally cheated with the Liar's Dice part. Despite my best efforts I still have NO clue as to how the game is played, so instead of falsifying the rules to suit my (lacking) understanding, I just left out pretty much all of it. That's the joys of being the writer XD

Read & Review, please.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

**A/N: **This has absolutely nothing to do with the story, but ZOMG!! Am I ever on a massive DBSK bender!! I've spent the past two weeks doing nothing but scouring YouTube for their music videos/interviews/television roles/concerts/etc. I wrote this entire chapter while listening to their song "Dōshite Kimi o Suki ni Natte Shimattandarō?" ("Why Did I Fall In Love With You?"), and this damn song almost made me cry TWICE while typing for no good reason. I don't speak Japanese, but I watched the music video and it's so sweet yet so sad. Then I found the English translations of the lyrics and it made me go all teary eyed all over again.

*WARNING: SPOILER ALERT FOR UPCOMING GAME: 358/2 DAYS!!*

Also, while anxiously awaiting the European release of Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, I did some snooping around online and made a very interesting discovery: according to the latest game's storyline, Saix and Axel used to be good friends before becoming Nobodies. WOW!! Talk about a WTF revelation, though it does explain those new cutscenes I've seen in which Saix actually calls Axel by his original name (and yes, it IS Lea), and, according to the English translations of the scene, he even tells Axel that his friendship with Roxas is fake (since they met after becoming Nobodies) whereas Axel's former friendship with Saix was real.

*END SPOILER ALERT*

And now back to our feature presentation ...

* * *

"Momma says that frowning will give you wrinkles."

" ... "

"Momma says braids are for girls."

"..."

"Momma says you shouldn't walk around with sharp things."

" ... "

"Momma says that its rude to point sharp things at others."

" ... "

"AAAAAAH! Mommaaa!"

"Hey, kiddo," Xigbar said, prying the struggling joey from Xaldin's clenched fist. Holding the tiny creature by the back of his blue shirt, Xigbar tapped him on the nose in what was meant to be a mildly chastising manner, but, being in a poor mood himself, he tapped a bit too hard, which brought tears to the stuffed animals eyes. "Ah, cut that out. Isn't it about time you scampered off?"

"M-Meanie!" said the young kangaroo, lower lip trembling.

"Seriously, if you don't stop crying I'll—"

"Your parenting skills are sorely lacking, Xigbar."

"Aw, shut up. Deal with him, Super Nanny."

Luxord caught the joey with one hand. Giving the youngsters a calming smile, he put him down.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to look for playmates elsewhere," he said. "My friends and I are here on important grown-up business. And, as you can see, some of us aren't very friendly to begin with, so may I suggest going home?"

"I can send him home in a box ... " Xaldin sneered, retaking his seat against a tree.

"What, like a present?" asked the clueless joey, and gave an excited hop. "Like a present for Momma? She'd love that! With wrapping paper and a big bow on top? Let's do it! Let's do it! Let's do it!"

"I say, what's that over there?" Luxord said suddenly, moving the joey away when Xaldin summoned two of his lances. He pointed to a distant cluster of trees. "Did you see that? Is that what I think it was?"

"What? What? What?" shouted the joey, hopping with every "What do you see?"

"Wasn't that ... a heffalump?"

"WOW! Really? I don't see anything—"

"There it goes! Quick, my lad, after it before it gets away! You'll be known as the legendary Roo the Heffalump Capturer, and your mother will never make you go to bed early ever again!"

"No more strengthening medicine either?" asked the joey, making a face.

"For a great hunter such as yourself? Never! Hurry along now, before it escapes! And don't hesitate to chase it down _all day_ if you have to. In fact, only return to us once you've caught it."

"Yay! See ya!"

And off went Roo the joey, sprinting across the meadow at breakneck speed, surprisingly swift for something so tiny and stuffed with cotton.

The six Nobodies breathed out loud sighs of relief.

"Bah, children!" Xaldin said, rubbing his head as he stretched out his cramping legs. "No control, these days. We'd get whipped back in Radiant Gardens for disturbing adults."

Xigbar, back up high in the branches, gave Xaldin, directly beneath him, a puzzled look.

"Bogus. Ansem opposed corporal punishment for kids, including us."

"What are you talking about?" Xaldin asked with a suspicious glare. "Then why did I have to hide in the manure shed for two weeks after accidentally blowing all his books off their shelves?"

"Ah, so _that_'s where you disappeared to that time," said Xigbar, rubbing his scarred chin and doing a very poor job of hiding his amusement. "Meh. You must have misinterpreted things back then."

"_You_ were the one who told me to run and hide until the coast was clear!"

" ... Oh yeah! Hahahahaha! Damn, I'm good, ain't it?" Xigbar now grinned widely, thinking back on the deception with a fond look in his eye. "Ansem never found out who did it, but his only threat was to make the perpetrator write lines. I didn't think you'd actually believe that he'd drag you down to the dungeons, strap you to a X-board and whip you to pieces."

Xaldin threatened to rise, but the argument was interrupted by a third.

"_Excuse _me," said Axel in a very sarcastic voice. He'd been silent for the past two hours, which would have been some sort of record had anyone cared to record it. "Sorry to break up your little skip down memory lane, but did you two forget why we're in these damn woods in the first place?"

From where he lay on his stomach, with a growing patch of grassless ground before him as he plucked out blade for blade with a bored expression, Roxas looked up with dull eyes as Axel, looking slightly unhinged, leapt up from the tree trunk he'd been brooding on. The plucks of music coming from the mound nearby fell silent as Demyx quickly put away his sitar, fearing it would fall victim yet again to one of his teammates' sour dispositions.

Axel marched up to his superiors, glaring up at Xigbar in particular. He made a senseless motion with his arms, as if too frustrated to formulate his words properly, before finally settling on good old fashion blame-laying.

"You were there," he said, also casting an accusing look over at Luxord. "You_ both_ were there, and you didn't do anything! You let what happened happen and now we're in it deeper than before!"

Despite being so rudely accused by a subordinate, Xigbar wasn't fazed enough to do more than slap his forehead and exclaim, in sardonic fashion, "Damn! How could we not have _smelled_ that your Master Plan was going down the drain then and there? So totally uncool of us."

"I shiver to imagine what the Superior would have done if he'd discovered that we'd been spying on them in such a ... private situation," said Luxord, looking around the clearing they'd taken shelter in despondently. "How long have we been here, by the way?"

"Six days," Roxas said, checking his handy drawn-in-sand calendar.

At that, they all heaved heavy sighs.

Roxas went back to vandalizing the pristine grass of the Hundred Acre Wood, missing the privacy of his room back in the Castle, free of sniping Nobodies and interfering stuffed animals.

Watching as Axel continued to argue with Xigbar, Roxas thought back on how different a scene it had been six days ago, when Xigbar and Luxord had returned with the promising news that the Superior and Saix had locked lips in a Port Royal alley. Well, at first none of them believed the story, and Xaldin had forcibly administered a breathalyzer test on the two, convinced they were both drunk off their asses. Once they were proven sober and telling the truth, they'd been the happiest plague victims the universe had ever seen ... until the Superior barged into the infirmary unannounced, looking as though someone had drawn a giant smiley face on Kingdom Hearts.

Without giving any of them a chance to fake a cough or pained groan, he'd shoved a large jar of reeking rum into Xigbar's hands, opened a portal, and ordered them all to the Hundred Acre Woods for a reconnaissance mission. The orange blaze in his eyes had sent them running, scabby skinned and all, without so much as a question or complaint.

On the plus side, they'd all since completely recovered from their ill-conceived self-induced plague symptoms. Even Axel had been somewhat cheered up at having his full head of shocking red hair back, and Xaldin's sideburns were even once more.

Xigbar had handed the noxious rum apples to the first person they'd encountered, a young boy named something-or-the-other Robin, if Roxas had heard him correctly, and Luxord, familiar enough with this world to know its regular comings and goings, had commented that the boy had uncharacteristically been absent for the past few days.

Other than that one probable case of poisoning an inhabitant, they'd remained as inconspicuous as possible, hiding in the deeper parts of the woods. Unable to vent their confusion and frustration the usual way—slaughtering Heartless—it hadn't taken long for the first signs of restlessness to surface.

Axel was still fuming, offended that things hadn't gone according to plan, despite having not put much thought into his plan in the first place.

Xigbar had hated this world ever since an unfortunate run-in with a piglet that had ended up with him being blown into a tall tree, where he'd then been promptly set upon by an angry hive of honey bees. He'd cheered up a bit at the thought of having intoxicated a minor (which Xaldin believed to be illegal and creepy), but it was only a matter of time before he'd run off and bring misery upon the first hapless sap he encountered.

Xaldin hated every world, and everyone in every world. End of.

Luxord was doing his best to remain civil, but since no one was in the mood for a game of cards the Gambler's gentlemanly patience was wearing thin.

Demyx was still too shaken by the sight of a wrathful Superior to do much of anything, other than pluck sadly at his sitar in a corner. Twice Xaldin had told him to be quiet, and Xigbar had overruled that order on both occasions, but still Demyx did his best to stay out of everyone's way.

Roxas supposed that he was the only one who wasn't as upset about their short-term exile. (This place wasn't _that_ bad.) He spent most of his time thinking; daring to contemplate a theory he didn't yet dare voice, especially since everyone else was being so tetchy.

'Why would the Superior be so angry about what happened between him and Saix?' Roxas wondered silently, propping up his head on one hand. 'And why would he take it out on us? ... Is he even taking it out on us? What's the point of sending us away ... unless he suspects that we had something to do with it ... But he can't ... So ... '

"Hey," Demyx said, plopping down next to Roxas. "Think they'll be okay?"

Roxas looked over to where Xaldin had Axel in a headlock, demanding an apology from the neophyte while Luxord tried to pry the beefy arm from around a gasping Axel's neck. Xigbar wasn't very interested in breaking up the fight, but now seemed affronted at Axel's accusations that he'd been too chicken to step in during the epic drama that had gone down in Port Royal.

"We can start worrying once they draw their weapons," Roxas said, flipping over onto his back and folding his hands behind his head. "I don't mind if someone gets hurt, really. Maybe that'll be enough to shut them all up."

Luxord managed to free Axel, but only because Xaldin had remembered that he owed two weeks spent in a reeking shed as a kid to Xigbar. While Luxord coached Axel in the art of breathing, Xaldin made a lunge for Xigbar. Demyx jumped to his feet, but quickly sat back down when it became obvious that Xigbar needed no assistance: the Freeshooter had taken the liberty of intensifying the gravity beneath the Lancer's feet, effectively forcing Xaldin into a painful crouch. Things became even more colourful ten seconds later when the muscle cramps began to set in, although half the things Xaldin was threatening to do to Xigbar once he freed himself were physically impossible.

Fights among them weren't uncommon, but Roxas couldn't help but shoot Demyx a dubiously amused look at the other's unexpected desire to go to Xigbar's aide. Demyx coughed and turned his back to the oblivious Freeshooter, eyes averted.

"Er, actually, I meant whether the Superior and Saix would be okay," he said quickly.

This could just be an ingenious cover-up to hide his inexplicable concern for Xigbar's wellbeing, but Roxas didn't waste time and effort chasing that particular topic since Demyx had brought up the very thing that had been weighing on his mine all week.

"I didn't think the Superior was even capable of showing emotions, period," Demyx continued, relief etched on his face when Roxas didn't tease him about his earlier gaff. "He's a scary guy and all, but ... the way he looked when he sent us away ... It's like he couldn't control himself. The _Superior_ couldn't control himself. That's, like, his thing: control. It's like my music, or Axel's fire, or Luxord's cards."

"Makes you wonder whether he is wrong about the whole 'We have no authentic emotions' bit, doesn't it?" Roxas asked, propping himself up on his elbows, squinting against the sunlight filtering in through the trees. "Demyx, are you thinking what I'm thinking ... ?"

" ... I don't know. Am I? I'm kinda sure I'm not, unless you're thinking about ice cream. Hey, there's a thought! Maybe they have ice cream here. I'm starving!"

Sometimes even Roxas could only sigh and shake his head at IX's short attention span. He pushed himself up and motioned for Demyx to follow him. Together, they stole away from the rest, which wasn't an accomplishment. In his attempts to pull Xaldin into an upright position Luxord had somehow earned himself the Lancer's ire, and Axel was waving a burning finger in Xigbar's unimpressed face. Roxas and Demyx could have shot out of there on a sparkling rocket and still go unnoticed.

Together they exited the confines of the woods and made their way down a narrow lane that eventually led them to one of the many tree-homes, complete with its own front steps and letterbox. A lopsided sign had been stuck into an unused flowerpot and read:

**Away all day on sick visit. You are welcomed to join us at Christopher Robin's house to pay him well-wishes until he recovers.**

Trust Xigbar to bring alcohol into a children's story book and nearly kill off one of the main characters. Peeping into the windows to make sure no one was in, Roxas sat down, took a minute or two to enjoy the peace out here, then motioned Demyx—who was still looking in through the windows, fascinated—to join him on the front mat.

"Axel's planned worked," Roxas said.

"Huh? Really? Things are even worse than before," Demyx said, juggling a miniature flowerpot and almost dropping it. He quickly returned it to its rightful spot next to the crooked sign. "I know Axel's your best friend and all, but I don't think he's helped us out at all. Now the Superior really mad at us—"

"Not at _us_," Roxas said. "If he was mad at us he'd have sent us to the Underworld or Halloween Town, or somewhere else swarming with Heartless. Instead, he sent us to this place. Yeah, it's so peaceful and cutesy here that it has Xaldin wanting to scratch his eyes out, and everyone's on edge, but at least we're safe. It really doesn't feel like much of a punishment. He doesn't know about the Master Plan, or we'd really be in a world of pain."

Demyx took a while to think this over.

"So, you think he's mad with Saix?"

"I considered that, but it wouldn't make any sense. The Superior could have been offended or outraged by Saix's reaction, but that kiss caught them both off guard, so Saix isn't really to blame here."

Demyx made a face as though he understood, but couldn't keep it up for long.

"But how does any of this prove Axel right?"

"As far as the Superior's concerned, this is just between him and Saix. If the Superior's angry with himself, what's he got to be angry about ... ?"

" ... "

"Demyx, who initiated the first kiss?" Roxas said, trying to reel in Demyx, who was being distracted by a pair of butterflies.

"Huh? Oh, er ... the Superior."

"And the second kiss?"

"The Superior."

"So, if someone is to blame for what happened between them, who would that be?"

"The Superior—Hey!" Demyx perked up with an excited bounce. "He's angry because he chased Saix away? As in, he wanted Saix to stay with him, is that it? Seriously? Awesome! Well, not really awesome ... but good, ya know? I mean, that must mean he at least cares about Saix ... doesn't it?"

"There's only one way to find out," Roxas said, getting to his feat, almost hitting his head on the low doorframe. "I'm going back."

"Wha? Back to headquarters? Nuh-uh, Roxas, I really don't think that's a good idea!"

"Better than just sitting around here, waiting for Xaldin to poke Axel full of holes. I'm just going to scope out the situation. If anyone asks, I went to look for something to eat."

"Not good. So not good," Demyx said even as Roxas opened a portal. "What if something happens to you? You wouldn't stand a chance against either the Superior or Saix. Get Axel to go with you—"

"It'll be easier to hide my presence if I'm alone," Roxas said, slipping free of Demyx's desperate grasp. "Be back soon."

"Wait ... "

But Roxas stepped through the portal without looking back.

Alone on the tiny doorstep, Demyx was torn between returning to the others, as told, or following his gut instincts and chasing after Roxas. It was suicide, going to the Castle, knowing the kind of mood the Superior was in. Even scarier, who knew what mood _Saix _was in, let alone his current location. Roxas was a good kid. Demyx liked him a lot. He didn't want to have to scrape whatever remained of him off the floors and walls. As the only one who knew Roxas' plans, he'd be held responsible for sure.

"Not fair!" he wailed, already imagining the accusatory eyes of their comrades. "I didn't mean for him to get ripped to shreds!"

"What's with you?" asked a drawling voice behind him.

Demyx jumped with a loud "Eep!" and turned to find Xigbar sauntering towards him, idly spinning what looked like a grey cloth tail with a pink ribbon on one end and a nail on the other.

Caught off guard, by Xigbar no less, Demyx panicked.

"Er ... Roxas went ... uh ... to get shoes! No, wait ... Clues? Tools? ... What was it he told me to say again—I mean, what is it that I_ happen to know_ he went for, because he didn't tell me to lie for him or anything, okay?" Demyx laughed nervously, feeling slightly flustered at the same time. "It's not like he went to do anything other than get ... Food! Yes! He went to get food! That's it. Nothing else going on, so you don't need to ask what's going on or anything ... er, sir! Hey, whatcha doing here? Taking a walk?"

Xigbar, who'd been looking bored, narrowed his eye in suspicion.

"Well, I was looking for you, but now that you pointed it out, where is Roxas?"

But Demyx didn't really catch the last part.

"_You_ were looking for _me_?" he asked, in an embarrassingly high voice. Clearing his throat, he added a more manly sounding, "Why?"

"Because you were missing," Xigbar said plainly, snapping the cloth tail at a butterfly fluttering around his head. "This place's bad enough without having to listen Axel bitching all the time. Luxord managed to calm Xaldin down by somehow getting him involved in a card game, but I owe them both munny."

Demyx shrank back against the tree, the doorbell poking him uncomfortably in the lower back, though all he really noticed was Xigbar planting one hand next to his head and leaning in.

"_So_, where is Roxas?" Xigbar asked. "Whether I like it or not, I'm currently in charge of this bunch and I don't want to be losing anyone on my turn. Where did the kid go?"

" ... Away?"

"No duh. Where did he go for 'food'?"

" ... He'll be back soon."

"From _where_?"

Demyx made a helpless sound, hoping the solution would come along soon and handle this for him, but after several tense moments it was still just the two of them, staring at each other. When Xigbar sighed Demyx flinched, expecting some sort of disciplinary action for not cooperating. When nothing happened he peeked out of one eye.

"You coming?" Xigbar asked, already continuing on down the path.

"W-Where?" Demyx asked, following anyway.

"Got some time to kill, so let's drop by that Christian Swallow kid."

"I think his name is Christopher Robin."

"Whatever, dude," Xigbar said, flinging the tail away into some bushes where its unhappy owner would probably never find. "Must be boring round his house, with him being sick and everyone worried that he'll never get better. Let's swing by and make things more interesting."

"And you want me to come with you? Really?" Demyx asked, excited.

"The more the merrier," Xigbar said, already plotting something grand in his head. "And what's a water balloon fight without some water?"

" ... I don't think anyone will be in the mood for a water balloon fight over there."

"Well, they're getting one, whether they like it or not," Xigbar said with a grin that promised nothing good for Christopher Robin and his friends.

Falling in step, Demyx watched Xigbar as the other began listing the many traps he could think up from the top of his head. Even as the Freeshooter described his idea of a tsunami-based ambush—and dismissing the chance that some of the victims couldn't swim—Demyx smiled at the other's eagerness. Yes, he was plotting a potentially deadly prank, but it was nice to see the Freeshooter happy. In a strange way, it suited him.

* * *

Kingdom Hearts had always been beautiful, majestic and captivating, but Xemnas couldn't recall having ever attributed the word 'lonely' to his greatest creation. But that's what stood out the most now. It was one of a kind, his masterpieces, but as big as it was, Kingdom Hearts still looked small, up in the great black expanse of the perpetual night sky. All the way up there ... All by itself ...

With a frustrated growl, Xemnas stood, grabbed the heavy chair he'd been sitting in, and hurled it over the edge of the Altar of Naught, where it tumbled down into neon-dotted oblivion and landed with a distant crash on the pile of wrecked chairs that had preceded it.

There was a flutter of robes as two Sorcerer Nobodies brought in a new chair (the fifteenth for this evening) for Xemnas to sink back in with a sigh. It wasn't common for him to have his servant Nobodies around him, but ever since his return to the Castle they'd kept close to him, disturbed by their master's strange behaviour. Trays of untouched food and drinks stood everywhere, as did the scrolls and books the Sorcerers had brought up from his office, hoping work would be enough to draw his attention away from the unhelpful skies.

This place, what had once been his absolute sanctuary, had failed to calm him. For the first time ever, Kingdom Hearts was not enough to settle his errant thoughts. He'd been here for days, waiting for clarity to come to him in the soft light of Kingdom Hearts, but the silence had stretched on without answers.

Until now.

Xemnas cursed beneath his breath when he felt a shift in his mind.

" _... heh ... "_

"Is that all you have to say?" Xemnas asked the Voice, which had been blissfully quiet since that cursed night. "You've had days to come up with new material."

"_Actions speak louder than words, don't they?"_ chuckled the Voice. _"I notice you haven't done anything to heal that painful burn he gave you."_

Resisting the urge to touch the blistered skin on his chest, Xemnas looked away, even though there was not much else to look at.

"_Such a fierce rejection from a loyal underling—"_

"It wasmy behaviour that was deplorable, not his."

"_You are the Superior, Xehanort!"_ the Voice snapped, suddenly not even patient enough to toy with him first. _"Who was he before you found him? Who were they before you organized them? You are the Master, which makes them your slaves, and a slave does not disobey his master, ever ... You know all too well how quickly rebellion can lead to downfall. Your former master knows this all too well, and you almost suffered the same fate—"_

"Marluxia and Larxene were mistakes," Xemnas growled, rising, but it was impossible to walk away from his tormentor.

"_And yet Saix attacked you. Is that loyalty? Is that trust? Regardless of your own actions, shouldn't he have trusted you enough to let you with him do as you so pleased? If he is devoted to you, why could he not surrender to you on demand?"_

Bracing himself against the high back of his chair, Xemnas clenched his fingers around the white wood and glared at the cushioned seat.

" _... You still think of it, don't you?"_

Xemnas closed his eyes, trying _not_ to think about it.

"_You can't hide it from me, Xehanort. I can see everything that goes on in your head. You've been out here for six days and nights, staring up at Kingdom Hearts, but all I see in here, in your mind is your missing pet. I know how often you've relived that moment when you had him against that wall, delighted with the feel of that mouth ... "_

Those lips ... He could still feel them ... He wanted to taste them again ...

Six days. It had been six days since he'd last seen Saix. He'd lost count of how long it had been since he'd lost his heart, but he was aware of every minute and hour that had passed since Saix had left. He had never gone this long without hearing from the Diviner. He'd never not known the other's whereabouts. Now, without him around, it seemed impossible to function.

That face ... That skin ... That ... That feeling ... A feeling?

He didn't know what to think anymore. In a few seconds, in that alley, his research and beliefs had been trampled to dust. He had tried to deny it at first; had tried to come up with a theoretical explanation, but even with his sheer genius he could not clarify what was happening to him.

"_Satisfying, was it? Empowering, having the infamous Berserker at your mercy,"_ snickered the Voice. _"Can you only imagine what would have happened had he surrendered to you completely? What would you have done, Xehanort ... ?"_

Theoretically speaking, his symptoms strongly suggested that he ... desired Saix. Even when he factored out his inability to feel anything, he couldn't understand how this sensation could have gripped him so suddenly. After all this time, why now? Why so sudden, and so intense? Had it been the kiss? But what had spurred him to kiss Saix in the first place? What sort of undiscovered senses had he unknowingly tapped into, and how could he bury them once more? What sort of curse had been placed upon him?

"_This is no curse, except perhaps the curse of Man."_

"I am no longer human," Xemnas said, wandering back and forth across the white tiles, followed at a respectful distance by his anxious Sorcerers. "I am a Nobody. I have no heart. I have no feelings. I have no heart ... No heart ... I have ... I am ... Nobody ... "

"_Don't you want to become somebody again?"_

"Yes."

The Voice lowered, sounding tempting and seductive as it whispered to him.

"_Then let me help you. We are already one, but we can truly be whole again. No one else can give you back your heart, Xehanort ... Look before you. Look at this world you created. What do you see?"_

Looking over the low wall, down at the Dark City, Xemnas saw nothing but an abomination. This world was fake, without life or heart; nothing but an empty replica. It truly was a Nobody's world.

"_True, it is a flawed world, but it is a world you created. This Organization is your creation. Kingdom Heart is your creation. You have so much potential, Xehanort. Your goal is so close ... Kingdom Hearts, and all its power, is right there before you. You have harnessed its power, and, once ready, you will be able to unleash and control it. Wasn't that your intent from the very beginning? Wasn't that all that mattered once?"_

The neon dots of city lights were growing dimmer, fading out of sight, into the dark mass of uninhabited buildings which seemed to melt into the black skies. All that remained was Kingdom Hearts, a shining beacon above a sea of nothingness.

"_Refocus your sight, Xehanort," _urged the Voice. _"Can't you see? Only Kingdom Hearts can ever complete you, yet you have been neglecting it in favour of brooding. Kingdom Hearts will be your salvation: do not waste it on anything so trivial as one rebellious slave."_

"Saix is ... "

"_How different is he from Marluxia? He may not be seeking to usurp you, but I fear he's done something much worse. Surely, he is the reason behind your recent uncertainty. I have seen your thoughts stray to him often, Xehanort; thoughts I have never before heard you express towards others. Perhaps ... it is for the best that he not return."_

"I will be the judge of that," Xemnas said, though not as resolutely as he should have.

"_You would let him return? And what then? His presence will only distract you. His presence will only tempt you to repeat your actions in Port Royal. Admit it, Xehanort: you cannot resist him. He resisted you, but would that be enough to dissuade you next time? What if it happens again? What if it happens again in the presence of the rest? Your leadership would be tarnished, Xehanort. What would the others think of you if they saw you unable to control yourself around a mere Neophyte? Is one lost pet worth the integrity of the entire Organization?"_

... Weakness. If the others saw him like this, they would think him weak ... dependent.

"_You cannot have both, Xehanort. You cannot hold control over both. Which will it be: Kingdom Hearts, or the Neophyte?"_

Why couldn't he have both? ... Why did he want both? At what point had Saix become so important to him? Was it ... Was the Voice speaking sense? Was it true that Saix had actually drawn his attention away from Kingdom Hearts?

"_What matters the most to you? Chasing false emotions, or regaining the heart that will return to you genuine feelings?"_

He couldn't have feelings for Saix without a heart ... but if he did feel something for the Diviner, did that mean there was more to it than that ... ? But what if they were truly false emotions? How could he trust himself to be able to distinguish between truth and falsity without a heart?

"_Your heart or your pet, Xehanort."_

Without his heart, he'd forever be a Nobody ... If Saix returned, could he trust himself to restrain himself? ... No, he ... he didn't know ... it was too dangerous ... If Saix returned ... if he lost control again, and lost everything ... he'd lose both ...

"_A difficult decision, but which will it be?"_ the Voice purred soothingly. _"Your heart or your pet, Xehanort?"_

Xemnas turned his back to Kingdom Hearts, leaning against the low wall. Staring across the white expanse of the Alter of Naught, his eyes settled on one spot near the top of the stairs. Often he'd turned to find Saix right there, patiently waiting to be acknowledged. This had once been his shrine for Kingdom Hearts; a private place where he could worship his creation, and yet Saix had somehow become a part of it. Up here, where it should have been just him and Kingdom Hearts, he had grown used to having Saix by his side ...

"_Is he truly as important to you as Kingdom Hearts? Can he give you what you want? He even refused to even give himself to you when you wanted it in that alley. What worth is he compared to Kingdom Hearts, Xehanort?"_

The touch and feel ... The reaction and rejection ...

"_Chose, Xehanort!"_

" ... My heart."

A ripple of content pleasure made him shiver as the Voice sighed, pleased with his answer.

"_You've chosen well, Xehanort. You have finally remembered who you truly are: the Superior. You and I, we need no one else but each other."_

The Voice faded, leaving Xemnas to slump back down into his chair. Worried, his Sorcerers fluttered around him, trying to elicit a response, waving their robed hands before his empty eyes and calling out to him in their lisped tongues.

Xemnas could only stare up at the giant moon heart, noting the dark craters on its rough surface; its imperfections.

' ... My heart ... ' he thought, placing a hand over his burnt chest. ' ... If I've chosen my heart ... why does it feel as though I've lost it all over again? ... '

* * *

Saix hated Halloween Town.

This would come as a shock to the others if they ever were to find out, but of all the worlds in this universe, there was none he dreaded more than this haunting freak show of a world. The Underworld was filled with the Dead, but Halloween Town was governed by monsters, many of whom were technically dead yet insisted on staying on, dragging their rotting corpses around the grim town, filling the air with the putrid stench of decaying flesh and infected wounds. The "living" were no better.

Witches and ghouls and goblins cackled over cauldrons while ghosts chased emaciated black cats and grotesquely fat children through the scraggly woods while their worm-haired, one-eyed parents cooked pots of insects and intestines for dinner. Skeletons danced in the street for coins and eyeballs, playing music on their bare ribs while furry and scaly onlookers cheered. Screams erupted almost every ten minutes from the crooked buildings, followed by delighted shrieks of laugher that would send flocks of greasy crows soaring into the night sky.

Having left behind the rowdy Town Square in favour of the nearby graveyard, which he shared with only one other: a six-legged dog that slept half buried in its own grave. Balanced perfectly on the oddly shaped mound the denizens called Moonlight Hill situated in the middle of the graveyard, Saix looked up at the harsh yellow full moon, reflecting on many things, including how much he hated this world.

A world of monsters: surely, this was a fitting place for him.

Only a monster, a savage, a brute, would have done what he did.

Snarling, Saix pressed the heels of his palms onto his brow and lay back, draping himself across the curling tip of the hill, one leg dangling while the other bent at the knee to anchor him to the spot. With the exception of the moon, or occasional broom-mounted witch and vampire bat that would fly by, the sky was empty. Dead. Skilled in divination as he was, even Saix could read nothing up there. It was a blank slate, and it made him miss the ethereal beauty of Kingdom Hearts even more. In times like these, only the promising glow of his only hope could calm his mind.

But he couldn't return to the World That Never Was. He had committed the worst crime any Nobody could commit: he had attacked their leader; their Superior. Not even XI, who'd been so boldly ambitious, had ever dared to strike out at the Superior. Only a mindless animal would bite the hand that had fed him. Saix didn't fear punishment: indeed, he strongly believed that he'd deserve it, but the shame of facing the Superior was unbearable. To stand before the others, admitting that he'd dishonoured, not merely himself, but their leader as well ... He did not even deserve an audience with the Superior after what he'd done.

Since it had been six days since the incident, and no sign of any Organization members, it seemed as though they wouldn't even waste their time tracking him down. He hadn't tried to cover his tracks, and II would definitely be able to find him effortlessly if given the order, and yet no one had come looking for him. It was not Organization policy to postpone punishment: if retaliation had not been carried out by now, would it ever be? Or had the remaining Nobodies chosen to forgo retribution and had instead already dismissed him from their ranks?

The wind picked up, unpredictable as always, blowing his hair about as it tried to dislodge him from his perch, but Saix barely noticed its efforts save for brushing the waving strands of blue hair out of his face as they obstructed his view of the moon.

'The Superior gave VIII direct orders to see to XI and XII's disposal ... but he has issued no such order against me,' he realized. 'Was mine an act so despicable I am not even worthy of assassination? Have I really offended you more than those two traitors ... ?'

"Excuse me, dearie!" A warty witch in bright orange shoes was hovering above him on her broom, on the end of which a black cat was clinging desperately to the handle to prevent itself from being carried off by the winds. "You wouldn't happen to know if Oogie Boogie's manor is nearby, would you, young man? My third and forth eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be," she said, pointing a spindly finger at a second pair of eyes just barely concealed by the wide brim of her hat. "Be a dear and help a sweet, old hag out?"

Nothing. No outrage at being disturbed. No offense at being called such sickening pet names. No desire to alleviate some of his pent up frustration on this unsuspecting victim. Saix stared at her a bit longer, waiting to see whether his rage would belatedly kick in, but when she gave him an impatient look he sat up, looked around to get his bearings, and pointed in the right direction.

"Follow the bridge across the river, then the trail beyond the woods," he said.

The witch rose higher into the sky and pulled out a crooked telescope with a blinking eye for a lens. Peering through it, she eventually located the infamous abode.

"Thank you so much, my pretty," she said, giving Saix a horrible smile that exposed all of her three remaining teeth and a forked tongue. "That sack of bugs owes me ten dragon hearts! I'll turn him into larvae for sure this time! Here, for you troubles."

A brown parcel landed with a wet squish next to him. Saix didn't need to open it to know it contained some sort of meat that had gone bad a couple of days ago. Waiting until the witch had soared off, cackling gleefully, Saix kicked the parcel away with the toe of his boot and erased the random interruption from his memory.

Unaware of his actions, he lightly touched his lips with the tips of his fingers. It had never occurred to him how sensitive lips could be until he'd felt the Superior's on his.

The first contact the Superior had initiated had been unexpected, but Saix had remained as calm as possible, despite the discomfort of being pushed up against a wall by someone as powerful as the Superior. Despite not understanding what was happening, he'd submitted to the Superior's will, believing there to be a solid explanation behind it. The taste of the Superior's blood on his tongue had alarmed him, causing him to squirm, which had caused the Superior to pull back.

To Saix's knowledge, touching lips were only done on two occasions: as an attempt to resuscitate someone, or as an intimate gesture between mates. Up until the Superior's actions, Saix had been perfectly capable of breathing on his own, so it had not been a rescue issue. And since Nobodies didn't mate—and since he and the Superior certainly had no incentive to mate with each other—it couldn't have been the second option either.

Instead of an explanation, however, the Superior had shoved Saix back against the wall, this time with a look Saix had only ever seen him give Kingdom Hearts. The contact was even more intense than before, and the feel of the Superior's tongue forcing its way into his mouth had given Saix the strong impression that the Superior seemed to be expecting something from _him_. Not knowing what to do, yet aware that he was in some way disappointing his Superior by not doing whatever it was he should have been doing, Saix had tried to bring an end to the unusual experiment, and then ...

'I did not even stay to heal his wounds ... I did not even inform the others that the Superior might be injured ... I ... abandoned him ... I deserted him ... '

And now, in turned, it appeared that he had been abandoned by the Organization.

In his silence, the Superior seemed to be making his point: Saix was no longer one of them.

'Superior, I ... '

The loud howl of greeting from the foot of the hill made him sit up with a hiss.

Rather than be intimidated by the fierce reaction, however, the snaggle-toothed werewolf looping towards him looked impressed, almost on the verge of an appreciative applause, being the fear-hardened creature that he was. At almost ten feet tall, he towered above Saix as he lumbered over on his hind legs, carrying with him the parcel of meat Saix had kicked down the hill earlier.

"Fine evening. Does this item belong to you?" asked the werewolf with an eloquence that didn't fit his bestial appearance.

"No. Do you wish to pass?" Saix asked, aware that this unusual sentient hill was used by many as a short-cut across the cemetery walls and into wilder territories.

Already tearing into the mouldy meat, the werewolf wrinkled his long snout, staring at Saix with matching yellow eyes, though his were dull and bloodshot. The werewolf swallowed the chunk he'd been chewing on and sniffed the air between them.

"You don't smell familiar," he said, dismissing Saix question with a shake of his head. "And there's something ... odd about you. Are you really from the Eastern pack?"

"I have made no such claim. If you have no business in crossing this hill then you had better move along, dog."

"A fine way to treat your fellow," said the werewolf. Licking his claws clean, he hunched down next to Saix, looking more interested than before. "It is rude to not transform when greeting others, either. You're not a recessive ginger, are you? Your hair is blue, but it is only typical of Red-coats to be shy about their wolf-forms. Are you from further south?"

"I do not know what you are talking about," Saix said, callously refusing to meet the other's eyes, "but clearly you have misidentified me. What I am is something you cannot even begin to fathom. If you are seeking the company then you must look elsewhere, for even if my current disposition were welcoming of camaraderie, you and I have nothing in common."

The werewolf leaned back, head tilted to one side.

"You ... cannot transform," he said incredulously, his tail twitching nervously at the 'discovery'. "I can sense it now. What have you done to yourself? Does your pack leader—"

Saix was on his feet, claymore pressed against the beast's throat before the werewolf could even finish the sentence.

"I have slaughter thousands far larger and a hundred times stronger than you," Saix said, growling the words, at last feeling some stirring of his familiar rage. "I was going to let you walk away unharmed, but you forfeited that right with your senseless questions and accusations. Hear me when I say that I am _not _your kin, nor do I answer to lesser leaders."

The werewolf eyed the claymore, then followed the line along Saix's arm and straight into his eyes, where he once again read something unspoken.

"So you're an exile as well," said the werewolf confidently, inching away from the blade with his head low in peaceful submission. "What was your crime?"

Saix hesitated, then chose to say nothing.

"That bad, was it?" asked the werewolf. "The old hierarchy is not known for its leniency. I was cast out of my pack for challenging the second-in-command in an unprovoked attack. I surmise you did something similar ... ?"

"I ... " Saix shook his head with a sneer. "Our situations are not compatible. I am a Nobody, and nothing more."

"A Nobody? I have never heard of such a race," said the werewolf, correctly reading Saix's posture, knowing the Diviner had lost interest in killing him. "But I do know a werewolf when I see one. The truth is etched into your face, as it is on mine."

"Your attempts at riddled confusion will not fool me," said Saix, vanquishing his claymore. Pulling up his hood, he slipped past the beast and began to descend the hill. "I have no more food on me, so I suggest you go scavenge elsewhere."

Though there were no footsteps, Saix felt the trigger in the air and was ready when a strong grip clamped down on his lower arm. At this close distance his claymore would be useless so, using his teeth, he ripped off his glove on his free hand and swung around, sharp claws ready to slit the werewolf's throat ... but catching a glimpse of the other's face Saix abruptly called off his own attack and twisted himself free to leap back several feet.

"Convinced now, are you?"

It was without doubt the werewolf: his voice was the same, as was his scent, but in the place of a shaggy, snaggle-toothed wolf-monster was a tall human-like male in tattered pants. He had pointed ears, fell yellow eyes and short blue hair that was just a shade or two lighter than Saix's. Two long scars, which had been hidden beneath his wolf-fur, crisscrossed the pale, chiselled face, forming a crude X between the sharp eyes.

"Like I said, the truth is etched into our face. It is the mark of the Lycans," said the werewolf, tracing a clawed finger over his scars. "It is a warning to others to be wary of us at all times, even when we are in human forms. These marks can never be removed, not even by the most powerful magic performed by the wisest of sorcerers and witches. You may have succeeded in banishing your wolf-form for good, through some unholy means, but you are a werewolf, my brother."

Despite having denied it so fiercely, this damning evidence and its revealing implications didn't affect Saix as badly as it should have.

"If I ever were a werewolf, it was in a past I no longer have any connections with," he said, tearing eyes away from the other's scar. "I have no recollections of my former life, so this revelation, if certainly true, is of little value to me."

The werewolf wordlessly followed him to the tall but crooked cemetery gates. They both paused, looking up and down the winding road paved with grinning skulls.

"Where do you plan to go from here?" asked the werewolf, leaning back against the rusty gates and crossing his arm across his tattooed chest.

"Elsewhere," Saix answered vaguely. "And you would do well to part ways with me here. I do not appreciate being dogged."

He hadn't meant that as a joke, or even a pun, but the werewolf found humour in it nonetheless, throwing back his head to bark a laugh. Puzzled, Saix stopped to stare at the infuriating creature, not for the first time worried that he hadn't felt the overpowering urge to rip its heart out yet.

"Forgive me," chuckled the werewolf, holding up his hands at Saix's unimpressed leer. "I do not mean to further anger you with my laugh. Meeting your acquaintance has been a welcomed change, even if you are an alleged ex-werewolf: being a known exile myself, I am avoided by my former brethren."

"Would that I were as skilful as them," Saix said dryly.

He'd been looking in another direction, but turned just as the werewolf reached out and pushed his hood back. Without making contact, the werewolf traced Saix's scar with his claws, looking so serious he appeared to have undergone yet another transformation.

"You have lost much of your heritage, but there's something else. It is almost as though ... " The werewolf paused, trying to find the proper wording. "Strangely enough, it is as though ... you've lost your centre. I do not mean 'heartless' merely in the sense of the word, but it truly feels as though you are without heart."

This time it was Saix who made an amused sound, though his was bitter.

"Your powers of perception exceed my expectations," he said, leaning back when the fingers tried to touch his face. "I am, indeed, heartless in a way you would not believe. It is my only ambition to repair the damage that has been done, and you are not a part of this mission and are thus of no use to me."

The werewolf suddenly looked up, his long nostrils flaring as he sniffed the sour air.

"The clouds are rolling in from the north," he said. "Rains are coming, and from the smell of it they will be heavy downpours. I might not be able to help further your future ambitions, but I make home on the edge of the town. If you have nowhere to go, you are welcomed to take shelter there."

Saix was certain he should have slaughter this one almost half an hour ago, but after days of aimless wandering and pondering, and learning the disturbing truth that he actually did have ties in the one world he hated the most, he didn't have the extra energy to work himself up into a murderous rage. He did have enough willpower to slap away the hand on his shoulder.

"And why are you so determined to befriend strangers?" he asked.

"Like I said, loneliness is a curse," said the werewolf, pushing himself away from the gate. "It is rare to find a Lycan without a pack, and those who still belong to one refuse to associate with exiles such as you and me. There is no such thing as 'lone wolves' in Lycan society. It is against our nature to be parted from our comrades. Your former pack, you still miss them, do you not?"

Not that he missed VIII throwing water balloons off the Castle turrets, or IX keeping him awake at night with his music, or II leaving muddy footprints on his bedroom ceiling; nor would he be overjoyed to see any of the other members again, but ... it was different without them.

Saix was about to shrug it off when, prompted by the reference to his former comrades, reality struck and he realized, for the first time, that he would probably never again smash IX sitar to pieces; would probably never again force VIII to repaint the patches of walls he'd scorched; would probably never again turn down XI's proposal for a game of cards; would probably never again enjoy a good, brutal sparring match with III; would probably never again hear one of II's rare and knowledgeable theories; would probably never again see the Superior ...

"Are you going to be sick?" the werewolf asked.

Unaware that he'd been covering his mouth with the back of his hand, Saix dropped his arm with a shake of his head. Without a heart he could not properly mourn the loss of everything he'd gained over the years since becoming a Nobody, but it did paint a bleak future picture. Not only was he now truly a nobody without the Organization, but he would never become somebody. Without Kingdom Hearts ...

He blinked when his hood was suddenly pulled back up.

"It's starting to drizzle," the werewolf said, and indeed, fine droplets of water had begun to fall, sprinkling the werewolf's short mane of hair. Walking steadily on barefoot across the glistening stone path, he paused long enough to look back at Saix when the other remained at the gate. "You coming, brother?"

Back in the cemetery, the six-legged dog had sunk almost entirely in its grave, so deep in sleep it was unaware of the rain and the fact that only its nose and one leg still stuck out above ground. In the Town Square, witches were shrieking in pain as they rushed to get out of the rain while children squealed with delight as they splashed about in dirty puddles. The stench of decay and earth was growing stronger, released by the splattering drops of rain.

Adjusting his hood properly, Saix looked back at Moonlight Hill, but the full moon was completely blanketed by the black rainclouds. Nothing but darkness, and emptiness. Slowly, hesitantly, Saix turned away and joined the werewolf where he stood waiting patiently.

"Garmjaw Blackback VI," the werewolf said, holding out a hand to Saix. "Though we should have introduced ourselves earlier. And you are ... ?"

" ... Isa," Saix said, not taking the hand. "Just Isa."

Taking the snub in stride, Garmjaw began pointing out things as they walked on, not hiding his appreciation in finally having some company after all this time. Saix listened with no interest, showing no signs of hearing what the other had to say, though Garmjaw didn't seem to mind this snub either.

As the cemetery gates faded behind a curtain of cold rain, Saix lowered his eyes and touched the centre of his chest, which felt emptier than ever before.

' ... I am sorry, Superior, that I failed you ... I do not deserve to serve you ... Perhaps I am undeserving of a heart ... Perhaps ... it is yours to keep after all ... '

* * *

"Are you sure about this?"

Sitting on the tree stump, Roxas nodded gravely. Standing around him, the three older Nobodies looked worried. Luxord and Axel turned to Xaldin, who knew they were waiting on his expertise to clarify the astounding news Roxas had just told them.

Before anyone could speak, however, a voice called out, "Yo! Did you guys know that rum apple fumes can cause acute blackouts in ten-year-olds?"

Everyone turned as a drenched Xigbar appeared from among the trees, followed closely by equally soaked Demyx. Xigbar was enjoying a box of chocolates with a large, handmade "Get Well Soon, Christopher" card still attached to it, while Demyx was the proud owner of a bunch of colourful balloons.

"Apparently, unconscious ten-year-olds can't swim well in a flash flood, either," Xigbar continued, speaking around a mouthful of chocolate as he wrung a stream of water from his limp ponytail. "If none of those stuffed animals know how to administer CPR that kid's fuc— ... " His disconcerting story went unfinished when he noticed the unusually sour mood between them.

"Roxas!" Demyx piped up, running over to grab his hand. "You're back! Geez, you really freaked me out back there! So, how was it? The Superior and Saix, are they, like, cool about the whole thing? You're not hurt, so they can't still be angry, right? Does this mean we can—"

"The Superior has cast Saix out of the Organization," Xaldin cut in, looking directly at Xigbar.

Demyx's balloons floated right out of his limp fingers, up, up into the trees where their strings became ensnared by the branches. Xigbar spat out the chocolate he'd been enjoying and shoved the box into Demyx's hands (he dropped that as well) and grabbed Roxas by the front of the coat, bringing the startled blond up to eye-level. Axel stepped forward, but was restrained by Luxord.

"_What_?" Xigbar asked simply, with enough authority to demand an explanation from a mountain.

"While I was walking through the Castle corridors," Roxas said, wondering why the blame seemed to have fallen on him, "I bumped into one of the Superior's Sorcerers and it told me that the Superior would be calling us back to the Castle soon. I asked it whether Saix had already returned and it said that the Superior has officially stripped Saix of his rank and that he was no longer welcomed in the World That Never Was."

"Like hell he isn't!" Xigbar roared, surprising them all with his uncharacteristic outrage. Dropping Roxas, the Freeshooter began pacing the clearing, stopping only to summon one of his guns to empty an entire clip into the nearest tree.

"Didn't think you'd take the news so hard," Xaldin said.

"I did not lose an eye and nearly half of my face dragging Saix's psychotic ass back to Castle just for Xemnas to boot him back out over one stupid kiss!" Xigbar sneered, spitting chocolate onto Xaldin's broad chest. "That's it, dude! I was just going along with this for the laughs, but now it's personal! If Xemnas wants to do things the hard way then I'm game!"

"But ... the Superior doesn't even know we had anything to do with it," Demyx said timidly as he tried to salvage the chocolates.

"True. We cannot enforce extreme measures without the risk of revealing our own meddling," Luxord agreed.

Still rubbing his rear after being dropped on it, Roxas noticed that Axel had yet to say anything since hearing the shocking news, which was a very bad sign.

"In that case," Axel finally said, his low voice effectively getting everyone's attention. "In that case ... we have no choice but to use _that _... "

Luxord, Demyx and Xaldin had the sensibility to look uncertain, but Xigbar's scheming grin told Roxas all he needed to know: he did _not_ want to be a part of _that_, whatever it was.

"Do we really have to?" Demyx asked, shaking so hard the dirt-covered chocolates were bouncing around in the box he held. "Remember what happened the last time? The Castle was swarmed with locusts and the water in the taps turned to blood."

"And it took me weeks to finally blow out those belligerent spirits that took up haunting the bathrooms," Xaldin added.

"And Axel's fire turned blue and burned him!" Demyx added onto that.

"But, my friends and fellows," Luxord said before Roxas could demand to know what they were talking about, "although I too shudder at the vivid memories of our last encounter with _him_, is it not a small price to pay for our mistakes? You are angry that your sacrifice seems to have been in vain, Xigbar, and you are determined to succeed in your Master Plan, Axel, but in all this plotting we seemed to have overlooked the fact that, through our fanciful attempts at playing matchmakers, we are responsible for Saix's exile. We've been handling it like a harmless prank, improvising as we go along, but gambling with the wellbeing of a comrade is too high a stake. To be sent away by the Superior, to whom he'd been nothing but loyal, for circumstances beyond his control and understanding, is quite possibly a punishment worse than death for Saix. If he believes he has lost his standing with the Superior, and his only chance of regaining his heart ... "

The clearing was silent, filled with guilty and uncomfortable stares.

"I don't have a heart," Demyx said softly, "but I'd never want to leave you guys. Saix never really hung out with us, but the Castle was his home too ... and now he cannot come home, because of us."

Luxord's words had gotten through to Xigbar, but it wasn't until Demyx had voiced his opinion that the Freeshooter reacted. Waving them all over, he looked each and everyone one in the eyes.

"We screwed up," he said outright, putting a hand on an increasingly despondent Demyx's shoulder. "But as senior commander, I hold myself the most accountable for this mess. My past with Xemnas allows me certain privileges, but Saix was as much my underling as all of you and I shouldn't have put my needs before his wellbeing. So, now we have a new objective, boys: bring Saix back home."

"What about the Master Plan—OW!" Axel yelped when Roxas stomped on his foot.

"We get Saix back first," Xaldin said, and that was a sequence of words he'd never thought he'd use. "He is our best fighter as well: without him around I will permanently be relegated to Behemoth duty."

"We may have broken many a law in our conduct as an Organization," Luxord said, "but we cannot tolerate injustice among ourselves. Saix is one of ours; one of the few of us left. He belongs with us, and nowhere else."

"Then let's do it!" Demyx said, wiping his eyes on Xigbar's shoulder before holding out his hand, beaming. "Let's go get our Saix back!"

Smiling wryly at the Nocturne's enthusiasm, Xigbar placed his hand on Demyx, and the rest followed suit. Even Roxas, convinced that this new endeavour would be no less insane than the first one, felt a strong sense of unity as he placed his hand on the very top. Dangerous and suicidal as they were, they were all he had, and, as Demyx had said, he would not be parted from them anymore. Somewhere out there, Saix was alone, and that was just not right. If not with them, he should at least be back at the Superior's side, where he was his happiest (or as happy as Saix could get).

" ... We're still going to go to _him_, though, right?" Axel insisted.

"Damn right we will," Xigbar grinned, accepting the dirt-free chocolate Demyx offered and dropping his authoritative bearing just as quickly. "Just because we're gonna do the right thing doesn't mean we gotta be complete bores about it. Things are always more interesting when Hades gets himself involved, anyway."

Roxas sank back down onto the tree stump, buried his face in his hands, and desperately wished he had a big jar of rum apples to sooth the pain.

Tbc ...

* * *

A/N: (Don't know why my A/N's are so long in this chapter.)

I was going to end this chapter with Saix joining Garmjaw, but that would have been a bit too depressing, considering this is meant to be more of a humour fic, so I tacked on the last part to lighten things up a bit. This doesn't mean all is bright and sunny for our favourite Nobodies. You know me: angst is my favourite flavour of life.

"Hey, Ladya, that's all nice and good, but WTF?? You just dumped this random new character and storyline on us? Where did that come from??"

Good question, dear perturbed readers. I have NO idea where this story is heading. I originally planned to wrap this up in one or two more chapters after the alley kiss, but while writing about Saix angsting in that graveyard I thought, "Well, DUH!! Throw in a werewolf, of course!!" and this is what you get. Like I said, the revelations in the newest game (358/2 Days) have given me plenty of new insight on Saix's character. Man, I hope this story won't drag for another six or seven chapters: I'm swamped with work as it is.

Seriously, though, if you haven't heard of DBSK (a South Korean boy band that's currently one of the biggest acts in Asia), then look them up. I was never a big fan of boy bands, so maybe it's just my insane love for anything Asiatic, but these guys are really talented, not to mention super cute/sexy and funny. And that song I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter (and I will not write out the title again because it's so freakin' loooong) actually made me cry four times, and one of those times was on the train ... Yeah, aw-kward.

Good gravy, look at me, fangirl-ing at the ripe old age of 22!! Why can't I get this obsessive over something productive, like working out and going on a diet?

Anywho, it's now two in the morning so I'm gonna treat myself to some pudding and Pepsi and go to bed.

Next chapter: Xemnas is angsting, Saix is reluctantly making new friends, and the rest are off to summon the Lord of the Dead. Never a dull moment, is there?

Read & Review, please.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

**A/N: **So, I managed to tear myself away from Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days and, without spoiling anything, I must say that it is totally awesome! Would that it had been released before I started writing this fic, since it gives plenty of insight on the inner workings of the Organization, but if I had the powers to bend things to my will I'd have already attained my ideal weight, captured all those pretty Korean boy bands as my personal playthings, and figured out why the hell I still love George Clooney even after the mindfuck that was Batman & Robin. Since none of these have yet happened, it's safe to say that mine isn't a very big role in the ways of the universe.

But I digress. Kingdom Hearts 358/2 game play is fun, and being a total Organization whore I am loving every minute of being with these guys. I was expecting to loath Xion (a girl! ACK!! Step away from my Nobody hotties, bitch!!) but she turned out to be a helluva better companion than either Donald or Goofy. And you'd think this game would answer a lot of questions; it does, but also generates even more questions! GAH! Will I ever be satisfied?

I'm so addicted to KH I might just go out and buy a PSP, just so that I can play Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep when it comes out next year.

And that concludes my inner monologue, and trust me, this was the sane, edited version of what was going on in my head while playing the game. (I do recall my most recurrent thought to be, "ZOMG!! SAIX!! ZOMG!! AAAAAAAAHHH!!!" or something to that effect. By the way, Saix is rather casual and chatty; more so than I ever expected him to be.)

Okay, here's the actual chapter...

PS. Oh yeah, and this chapter contains some graphic violence, though I doubt I write for a group that is easily offended by such material. In fact, I think it would take the mutilation of a baby in my stories to raise so much as a brow from my readers ... Man, you guys are awesome! Wish we could all go out for a drink and a movie sometime.

PPS. For real, here's the chapter ...

* * *

"Eeeeew! This place is _so_ gross!"

Slapping away the transparent hands trying to grab at his coat, Roxas couldn't agree more with Demyx. The Heartless they could deal with, but weapons, including Keyblades, were useless against spirits and ghosts, which were two different things, as Axel had so thoroughly explained.

"It's like .. Look, one starts with an 'S' and the other with a 'G'. Got it memorized?"

"Ghosts are the really bad ones," Demyx had explained more accurately, gripping the Olympus Stone close to him. "They're trapped in pits but if they can they'll try and drag you down with them. Spirits are the good ones, but they're really bummed out. Being dead is pretty sad, so they walk around with long faces and sometimes they'll just hug you and cry, or they try to kidnap you to make you their friend."

Demyx had divulged all this information at the entrance of the Cave of the Dead, but the deeper they'd gone in the less talkative he'd become, speaking up only to voice fear or disgust at their increasingly desolate surroundings. Other than his voice, they made their journey in silence, releasing puffs of condensed air as their lungs worked double time to draw whatever oxygen there was in these caverns. Unfortunately, the road they were on had led them straight into a flowing stream of spirits. It would have taken too long to turn back, so they were forced to walk on, the spirits passing through their lower bodies; the majority of them too despondent to do anything but be swept along to their final resting place.

Suddenly, a green head with long black hair rose from the crawling stream, throwing her arms out towards Roxas and crying, in a wheezing voice, " ... my ... son ... save ... me ... "

Another pair of hands grabbed Roxas first, pulling him aside. The spirit stumbled and fell back into the rippling mass, howling in such despair Roxas instinctively reached out a hand in hopes of saving her.

"Keep moving," Axel said, an arm around Roxas' shoulders, their sides pressed together as he dragged Roxas along. "Sucks for her, but she's dead, end of. You can't help her."

Relying on each other for balance, they soon caught up with Demyx, who was using his sitar as a walking stick as he fought his way uphill against the unnatural current of spirits. Wading next to Roxas, Axel was looking every bit as disgusted as Roxas and Demyx, despite having been to this world more times than both of them combined. This was Roxas' first visit to the Underworld, and he was going to do everything in his powers to make sure it'd be his last.

Only the fourth and final member on their team looked at ease, mainly because he wasn't stepping on ghastly faces.

"Are you sure this is the only way? Why can't we just travel through the Corridors and directly into Hades' Chamber?" Axel called up to Xigbar, who was acting as scout and lookout from his high vantage point upside down on the cave ceiling. Axel's voice echoed loudly through the solemn passage, causing a large chunk of rock to come crashing down right behind the three of them, squishing several spirits and splattering the three of them in undead essence.

"Yuck! Ghost goo!" Demyx moaned.

"Why not just set off stick of dynamite while you're at it?" Xigbar said, crouching on the air in front of them, covering Axel's mouth with a hand. "Keep your voices down. And you know the rules: no Corridor shortcuts down here unless it's an emergency. 'Fraid of a few ghosts, Flame-boy?"

"Yeah, well, if I could float like a fairy I'd be feeling cocky too," Axel snapped back in a loud whisper, pulling away. "You could at let us walk up there with you so that we didn't have to sludge through these things down here. One of them ate the heel off my left boot!"

"Kids," Xigbar sighed, walking on, forcing them to follow him since none of them had a map and he was the only one who knew the route by heart (so to speak). "You rugrats just want everything handed to you on a plate with a free beer."

"Oh, so _now_ you're against serving alcohol to minors?"

"Whoa!" Demyx suddenly cried when a gnarled hand grabbed his leg and began tugging him downwards. "Ack! This one is missing an eye! Groo-ooo-oooss!"

"Jeez," Xigbar sighed, reaching down to pull the struggling Nocturne up onto his level. "You're not supposed to make eye contact with them."

"Neat!" Demyx exclaimed happily. He hopped up and down a few times to test his footing. "So this is what it feels like. Roxas, check it out."

Apprehensively taking the outstretched hand, Roxas allowed himself to be pulled up, just grateful to get off the ground. Despite feeling solid nothingness beneath his feet, he stepped carefully as he tried to get used to the abnormal sensation of walking on air. Not knowing whether there was an edge or a limit to the spell, he made sure not to stray too far from the Freeshooter lest he ended up falling off.

"Axel," Demyx said, now reaching for the redhead's hand, but Xigbar stopped him.

"Sorry, Flame-boy," Xigbar grinned down at a glaring Axel. "I can't support all of you at the same time. You might tip the balance and then we'll all end up walking it to Hades."

"You bastard," Axel seethed, "I once saw you lift a Groundshaker right off the Pride Lands!"

"Yeah, _one_ Groundshaker. I can't carry around _four_ of us. Besides, we need someone at ground level," Xigbar said, making a shooing motion with his hand. "Go on. Keep an eye out for Heartless down there, will ya?"

"YOU SON OF A—AAAAH!"

"Be careful, Axel," Demyx warned earnestly as the redhead barely avoided being squashed by a one ton stalactite. "You really don't want to die in here: what if you don't fade away and get stuck here forever? ... Hey, but if you become a spirit we'd be able to come down here and visit you from time to time!" he realized, sounding thrilled.

Something that sounded like a sarcastic "Whoopee" floated up from where Axel was brushing himself off.

Throwing glances back every now and then to make sure his friend wasn't being dragged off to eternal damnation, Roxas peered past Xigbar as they headed deeper into the tunnel, which was beginning to glow a faint green.

"Valley of the Dead, dead ahead," Xigbar said, almost cheerfully, which raised a whole bunch of troubling questions in Roxas mind as to how his superior could still be so carefree in this literal hell.

Demyx released another haunted moan, dragging his feet as he walked.

"Why couldn't we just send him a card?" he asked, bringing up his earlier protests.

"Yeah, because that's the one thing we want to do when asking a god for help: diss him," Xigbar replied. "If you're gonna ask this big a favour from someone like him you should at least do it in person."

"It takes four people to ask one favour?" Roxas asked. "And how come Xaldin and Luxord got to stay behind in the Castle?"

"What the—! Watch where you're putting those hands!" Axel said down below as he tried to free himself from a pretty touchy-feely spirit.

"Because they're covering for us, _duh_," Xigbar said, ignoring Axel's plight in favour of giving Roxas a painful cuff upside the head when the blond stupidly moved into range. "This team's been carefully selected. I'm the negotiator; Demyx is the most experienced at stealing the Olympus Stone—" Demyx looked proud "—Axel's our back-up firepower; and you're ... You need the experience."

Of course, that was a lie, but with the Underworld sapping at his energy despite the presence of the Olympus Stone Roxas didn't have the strength to wrestle a straight answer out of Xigbar. As long as he wasn't about to be sacrificed to this infamous Hades he'd put up with being left in the dark, as always.

"So you've figured out how we're going to get Hades to agree to this plan?" he asked.

"Woman, I'll torch your face off if you don't let go!"

"That's no way to treat a lady, Axel. Anyway, it doesn't take a lot of brainstorming when it comes to getting on Hades' good side: just so long as it promises him benefits, and the suffering of others, Hades is always game." Catching Roxas' unconvinced glance, Xigbar put on his best run-while-you-still-can grin and slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, you trust me, don't ya?"

"Sure," Demyx said automatically.

"I trust I don't have much choice but to trust you," Roxas said, resigned. "Nothing I say will make you change your mind."

"I taught you well." Looking ahead Xigbar's eye widened when he caught sight of the large chamber at the end of the tunnel. "About time. If we're quiet we should be able to get through there without alerting that damn mutt—"

"Hey, Cerberus is awesome," Demyx objected. "He just needs a bit of training to stop him from eating people and ripping souls to pieces."

"Fine: if we're quiet we should be able to get through there without alerting poor_, misunderstood Cerberus_," Xigbar said. Demyx frowned, unsure whether he was being mocked. With just a few feet to go before they reached the end of the tunnel, Xigbar's mood switched to a more serious one as he held out a hand, signalling complete silence as they peered into the cavern.

Apart from the sizeable pool of spirits swirling about, the gigantic underground dome was deserted. Directly across the pool, on the far other side, the ground rose upwards in a series of wide, uneven plateaus. The air was thick with reeking fumes, and the rocky walls was covered with what looked like dried blood and glowing green moss, but Xigbar was pleased with their findings. Demyx, on the other hand, looked disappointed.

"I guess he's taking a nap," he muttered.

"Let sleeping dogs lie," Xigbar said, giving the pouting Nocturne a push in the back to get him going. Even though they were several feet off the ground—or perhaps _because_ of that—Roxas felt very vulnerable as they began the tense trek across the open terrain. Already twitchy, he jumped when Xigbar spoke up right next to him. "We're good. If that heck hound hasn't sensed us yet then—"

"THAT'S IT! BURN, BITCH!"

The entire cavern erupted in a bright hot flash that blew out from the tunnel they're just exited. A thundering ball of fire raced towards them with such speed it was upon them before Roxas could even consider evasive tactics. Suddenly grabbed, he was pulled down, where he found himself staring into Demyx's wide eyes as the two of them crouched, confused and helpless as the flames engulfed them. Several heavy thuds and bangs added to the chaos as loose rock began to rain down on them, smashing harmlessly against the invisible barrier above their heads.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it was over.

The flames dissipated into harmless wisps of smoke, and the Underworld's icy cold rolled over them once more.

"If it weren't for the fact that we've only recently lost one member I'd have turned you into a living pincushion by now," Xigbar growled, dispelling the Aeroga spell he'd cast in the nick of time to protect the three of them. "You know Hades gets pissy when someone other than himself causes pain and misery in this place."

Standing in the mouth of the tunnel, panting heavily, Axel looked around at the destruction his outburst had caused. His coat was twisted and he was missing a glove, but otherwise he looked very pleased with himself.

"Got her off me, though," was all he had to say for himself.

Xigbar's colourful argument was interrupted by an menacing growl coming from deep within one of the many other tunnels. Something angry was heading their way, barking a rumbling bark that sounded both excited and ferocious. The few remaining spirits that hadn't been vaporized by Axel's attack cried out and began scrambling towards any exit, dragging their mangled bodies across the ground.

Axel froze, his triumphant look waning by the second as he nervously spun his chakrams.

Demyx's eyes lit up as he eagerly looked around for their impending foe, sitar at the ready yet showing no intent of actually using it to fight.

Xigbar sighed and summoned his weapons, giving Roxas an impatient nudge to urge him to do the same.

"Ever fought a fifty ton demon dog with three heads and two hundred and fifty venom-tipped teeth before, kid?" he asked Roxas while lowering them to the ground.

" ... er ... " Roxas said, too distracted by the three pairs of glowing red eyes glaring at them from within the all-concealing darkness of the large tunnel on their right.

"No biggie. Never too late to learn," Xigbar said, taking the time to give Axel—who'd joined them in a defensive formation—a painful jab in the shoulder with one of his guns. "Most important thing to remember: don't get stepped on, and don't get eaten."

Roaring, the monstrous Cerberus finally made his appearance, his great lashing tail, all three of his heads snapping their cavernous maws rabidly as the hound prowled towards them. Dark balls of black energy floated about the beast, incinerating anything they came in contact with.

"Oh yeah. He can do serious damage without physically touching you," Xigbar added as an afterthought. "We'll take him head on, on the count of three."

Behind Xigbar's back, Roxas glared at Axel, who shrugged sheepishly.

"One ... "

"I hate you," Roxas mouthed to the redhead.

"Two ... "

"Don't hurt him too much: he's still groggy," Demyx cautioned them.

Xigbar rolled his eye, but he did banish one of his guns, and was rewarded with a grateful smile from Demyx.

"Whatever. Three!" Xigbar yelled, leaping forward with a spray of energized bullets.

Watching the gaping mouths lined with dagger-sharp teeth growing closer and closer, Roxas wondered whether Saix really was worth all this effort. If they ever got him back, he'd better be a damn lot nicer to them.

* * *

Pacing the width of the lounge while he absentmindedly shuffled his cards, Luxord started when a Corridor suddenly bloomed open before him. It was unlike his suave demeanour to be so easily startled, but after several days of plenty activity and little rest, and the overall tenseness that came when undertaking such a tentative operation in their own castle, under the Superior's very nose, Luxord felt that a little jumpiness was still a great sign of control, given their predicament. He still managed a stoic look when Xaldin stepped out of the Corridor. The Lancer didn't look to be fairing any better than Luxord as he almost stumbled in his haste to slam down a soggy report on top of the stack.

"Mission to Atlantic, clear," said Xaldin, now taking the time to wring water from his tangled braids.

"You still have your gills," Luxord pointed out, helpfully plucking the hitchhiking starfish from Xaldin's back.

Growling, Xaldin rubbed his jaw line, though it did little to speed up the process.

"What's next?" he asked, eyeing the second stack of incomplete reports with much loathing. "And why isn't that pile getting any smaller?"

"The Superior is keen to make up for lost time," Luxord said, speaking calmly despite his own frustration. "New orders keep coming in faster than we can carry them out."

"The two of us can't keep this up for much longer. If the Superior discovers that we've been carrying out these missions on our own he's going to demand an explanation." Groaning as he sat down on a couch, Xaldin grabbed the topmost file and flipped it open. "Oh goody. My next destination is Halloween Town."

Luxord, who was busy reciting the Pride Lands transformation spell to himself before he headed off on his own assignment, chuckled.

"No transformation required then."

Too tired to even summon a lance to hurl at the Gambler, Xaldin responded with an unfriendly gesture. Despite his own weariness, Luxord laughed at the unimaginative comeback and disappeared through a Corridor, leaving Xaldin behind to pick at his gills, which were finally beginning to disappear beneath his sideburns.

"Bah! Don't think Saix is worth the trouble."

Personally, he didn't miss being glared at by the Diviner, and it had always been something of a thorn in his pride to have to exercise caution around someone who was both younger and less experienced than him, out of fear of devastating bodily harm. However, Saix's psychotic nature made him ideal for Heartless extermination. For the first time ever, Xaldin found himself missing the Diviner, if only for his battle prowess. In fact, the more he thought about it, the bleaker a future without Saix around to fight their battles began to look.

"Where's the fun in this?" Xaldin sighed, leaning back into the damp cushions.

"You were never one to enjoy fun, Xaldin."

Xaldin leapt to his feet to find Xemnas himself standing in the doorway. How long had the Superior been there? Had he heard Xaldin utter that line about Saix?

"We're not here to have fun. We're here in order to survive," the Superior said, entering the lounge with languid steps, showing no signs of having heard anything previously.

"Speaking of survival, it is not wise to sneak up on a weary fighter," Xaldin said, giving a respectful nod to balance out his chastising tone.

The Superior didn't seem to take any offense, looking about as though he'd never been in here before. Xaldin couldn't recall having ever seen the Superior in here, actually. The Superior's posture was as formidable as ever, but his hair was in slight disarray and his fell eyes didn't gleam as menacingly as Xaldin was used. He looked ... hollow? If losing a heart reduced someone to a Nobody, what else could one possibly have to lose to become something even less?

"Is everything alright, sir?" Xaldin asked.

"Apparently so," the Superior said, shifting through the haphazard stacks of reports on the table. "Seeing as how you have time to rest, I assume we're on schedule."

Xaldin couldn't detect any suspicion in the voice, but just in case the Superior was indeed checking in on them ...

"I am merely recuperating, having destroyed the colony of Heartless in the grottos of Atlantica, and Luxord has just left for the Pride Lands. The others have yet to return from their missions," Xaldin said, boldly blurring the line between truth and lies. "I assume you too have made significant progress, which has allowed you time away from your office. The Organization is doing well indeed, Xemnas."

If the Superior could tell that Xaldin had purposefully steered the conversation away from the others he didn't show it. Xaldin hadn't actually seen their leader since the day he'd banished them to that damned Hundred Acre Woods, but, now facing the Superior, it was as though he hadn't seen the other in years. Something was off about him, though Xaldin would need more time to determine what. It was Xigbar, not he, who could read their old friend's unreadable nature.

"Focus is key to such operations, Xaldin," the Superior suddenly said, despite not being prompted. Taking a seat in a solitary armchair facing the windows to stare out at the great heart-shaped moon, he began talking in a distant voice. "We must keep our eyes on Kingdom Heart, and its completion, and nowhere else. Nothing else matters. How can it, when we have no hearts to care? Even in its incomplete stage, Kingdom Hearts inspires us to want, to care ... for Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts alone. How long has it been since we lost our hearts? It matters not. We have covered more ground in the past few days than we have in many months. Yes, the Organization is doing better than ever. We, who have been living blindly in the darkness for so long, will soon capture the power of the brightest light. Yes, we are focussed, now more than ever. We have done away with any distractions; ridded ourselves of all inconveniences, and will focus on Kingdom Hearts' completion ... "

'Focussed' was the last thing the Superior was being right now. Not that it was unusual for him to go on and on like this—'conciseness' was the only word that was not a part of their leader's extensive vocabulary—but it wasn't like the Superior to speak so absentmindedly. There was a difference between loving the sound of one's own voice, and rambling without even hearing oneself.

" ... Do you need anything, sir?" Xaldin asked after a couple of more minutes of this mindless monologue, which snapped the other out of it.

"No," the Superior said, rising from the armchair. "When will you be leaving for your next mission?"

When Luxord returned from his, but that honest answer would raise questions.

"When the spell wears off completely," he said, thinking quickly. He touched his gills. "I need the rest, anyway. I should be heading out in about an hour's time."

"Then I will meet you at Nothing's Call."

"Sir?"

"I will be joining you on this expedition," the Superior said. Turning away from Kingdom Hearts, he smirked at Xaldin's puzzlement. "Not to evaluate you, of course. Of all the members, you're the most competent when it comes to solo missions of any kind. No, it has been days since I last left this world. As informative as your gathered reports are, I need to see and experience the changes in other worlds myself. Do you object to my company?"

"Of course not." Though he had now backed himself into a corner, and thrown his and Luxord's efforts in a loop.

"Good. One hour." Turning in the tall doorway, the Superior asked, "What is our destination?"

"Er, Halloween Town," Xaldin said. "There's been a significant increase in Heartless activities. Two villages have already been overrun, and word has it that the town itself has heightened its security. My mission is—"

"To discover the source of the Heartless' unrest," the Superior finished. "In their agitated state, they are becoming a nuisance to us all. Yes, this is an interesting case."

"Any theories as to what we might find?"

"Nothing that cannot be dealt with swiftly and effectively. Anything that gets in the way of our goals must be destroyed." Again, the orange eyes swept over the room, searching for something. "Distractions will not be tolerated."

And then he left, departing as silently as he'd arrived, leaving Xaldin wondering what had just happened, and how he'd managed to get himself saddled with the Superior as a travel companion.

Also, he didn't know whether the Superior had been aware of it, but of all the seats he could have chosen to sit in earlier, the Superior had picked Saix's favourite armchair.

"Unreadable and insufferable as always, Xehanort," Xaldin said with an incredulous scoff.

* * *

"Not hungry?"

Saix ignored the other in favour of focussing on his clenched fist. Concentrating his energy, he counted to ten before opening his hand to find a hovering ball of red fire, but the flames were weak. It was completely unacceptable for a Firaga spell. Dispelling the fire with a shake of his hand, he tried again, this time attempting a Thundaga attack. Crackling electricity danced across his palm, only to vanish against his will. He was more successful in conjuring up a decent Blizagga, freezing the row of trees before him so thoroughly they cracked and shattered in to glittering heaps of ice.

Dissatisfied, Saix looked up to the bright yellow moon shining down through the leafless branches, washing over him where he sat poised on a moss-covered boulder.

'At the very least, your powers over me have not waned,' he thought, rubbing the frost from his hands. 'Though whether I am still worthy to be your worshipper ... '

A loud splash drew his eyes down to where the werewolf was wading about in the stream. Located several miles outside of town, this was the only body of water that was home to aquatic creatures of the living, none-poisonous variety. Garmjaw had already amassed a writhing pile of eels he had dug out of the mud, though with his enormous appetite the beast required at least twice as much provisions to last him through the day.

"I can catch enough for us both, Isa," Garmjaw said, climbing out of the water with another armful of shrieking eels. "Don't hold back for my sake."

"I owe you no favours of any kind," Saix answered bluntly, returning to his spell-casting.

"I told you, there's no need to keep watch. This area is safe."

It was to Saix's chagrin that he had to take the other's word for it, since he himself could no longer ascertain that claim with complete confidence. Like his magic, his senses were failing him. He could no longer discern every sound that reached his ears, nor could he pick up a scent that was more than ten miles away. Barely able to summon the wide array of spells he'd once had at his disposal, he couldn't even rely on his rage, whose inner voice he had not heard utter so much as a growl in days. Though he had made no attempt to leave this world, the Corridors he had opened to test himself had been unstable; one of them had even collapsed spectacularly. Worst of all, summoning his claymore had become more and more difficult every time they'd encountered Heartless, which had happened often since meeting Garmjaw.

Staring into his palm, Saix didn't quite know what to make of this development. His powers, especially his Nobody powers, were deteriorating by the day. Would he be left completely defenceless in the end, or will this deterioration then move on to his mind and body, until nothing remained of him ... ?

'Is this it?' he wondered, clenching and unclenching his fist, generating but a few wisps of smoke. 'Superior, is this your doing? Have you stripped me of the very gifts you gave me? You will have me degenerate back into the worthless, mindless beast I used to be before you found me? If this is your will; if this is my punishment for betraying you ... then I accept it.'

He didn't move when Garmjaw hopped up onto the boulder to crouch next to him, depositing his catch between them. While he did not appreciate having to share personal space with another he had grown used to the beast's at times intruding presence.

"You haven't eaten all week," Garmjaw said.

"You have eaten enough for the both of us," Saix said, refusing to take the wriggling eel when it was held out to him.

Growling, Garmjaw tossed the eel back onto the pile and dropped down onto all fours. Already knowing what was to come, Saix cast a weak Aero spell as Garmjaw proceeded to shake himself dry, starting from his head and continuing all the way down his long body, ending with the flick of his tail. Still damp, the werewolf settled down to eat.

"That is your method then, is it?" he asked between mouthfuls, pigheadedly continuing the conversation. "You will starve yourself to death to escape this fate?"

Saix made a dismissive sound, his indignant expression hidden beneath his hood.

"Do you accuse me of entertaining the despicable idea of suicide? To take one's own life is the greatest form of weakness."

"Do not think me either simpleminded or blind," Garmjaw snapped, his muzzle wrinkling. Sitting upright, he pushed back Saix's hood. "Don't think I haven't notice that it is becoming harder for you to see as far as you used to; to smell as accurate as you used to; to hear as sharp as you used to. When we first met you drew your weapon as easily as one draws breath, yet it took you several attempts to summon it two moons ago. You are growing weaker, Isa, and that is something you cannot hide from a werewolf. If death is not your wish, then you must work harder to survive because you can no longer depend on that which has kept you alive until now."

Resisting the urge to pull his hood back up—thinking that doing so would convey shame or weakness—Saix hissed and looked away, giving the other a fair warning that, having accurately identified the source of his discontent, the safest route would be to now drop the subject altogether.

Garmjaw, however, was either too slow on the uptake, or too brave to back down.

"I mean not that you are weak. We can easily manage, if we stay together. Now more than ever, the Shadows—or Heartless, as you insist on calling them, are everywhere, but not any more powerful than before. Should we have the misfortune of encountering truly powerful creatures I should be able to deal with them, don't worry."

"Do not dare to imply that I need your protection," Saix said stiffly. He would have emphasized that with a blast of fire, but he had to reserve what little magic he had left in him. "Have you ever defeated a Behemoth with your bare claws?"

"A what?"

"No? Then you have a poor sense of what constitutes 'powerful creatures'. It would be wise of you to not speak to lightly of another's business."

Garmjaw's fur bristled, but he restrained himself, taking his frustrations out on the eel he was holding by biting its head off.

"I would respect the gravity of your business more if you were to tell me more about yourself," he said, spitting out the eyes and swallowing the rest.

"No."

He expected the werewolf to give up at some point; to grow sick and tired of their tense exchanges and Saix's cold attitude, but Garmjaw either had the patience of a mountain, or he was desperately holding on to any company he could get. It was a strained alliance, and Saix himself was unsure as to why he'd agreed to it in the first place. The most likely reason would be that he simply no longer cared. If this creature desired to form some twisted sort of kinship with him, he wouldn't actively resist, though he wouldn't encourage it either. Eventually, one of them would grow bored and leave.

"Is there anything you _are_ willing to discuss?" Garmjaw asked, having already wolfed down two-thirds of the food.

"You never eat in human form," Saix said, though this was neither a recent realization, nor a point of great interest to him.

Slurping up several eels at once, crunching and grinding the mouthful into mulch with just three bites, Garmjaw licked his bloody snout and grunted.

"My table manners offend you?"

"I have seen worse." Like II challenging VIII to a eating contest, which had somehow made an even bigger mess of the kitchen than IX's attempts at cookery. Catching himself thinking of his former comrades, Saix finally turned his full attention on Garmjaw, who had already morphed into his less beastly appearance.

"Better?" Garmjaw asked, brushing back his short hair and stretching his tattooed upper body, causing his joints to pop. Grabbing his heavy brown cloak—which he hardly ever travelled without—he slung it over his shoulders. "I sometimes switch shapes without realizing it. I will be more considerate of your preference from now on."

Saix narrowed his eyes at what sounded a whole lot like a teasing tone in the beast's voice, though the source of Garmjaw's amusement eluded him. Pointedly refusing to take the bait, he busied himself with pulling on his gloves.

"It was an observation, not a thinly veiled request," he said.

"I wonder what your wolf-form looked like," Garmjaw said, munching contemplatively on a vertebrae as he studied Saix, something he often did. "Your hair is darker than mine, yet I imagine your fur to have been much lighter. You would have been slightly smaller than me, but given your ferocity in battle you must have been a true fighter; possibly the best of your pack. Have you considered tracking down your old pack mates? No, not those who stripped you of your fur and turned you into a 'Nobody'," he said, intercepting Saix's rebuttal. "I mean your true pack mates. Your fellow wolves, from whom you were taken so long ago. Lineage never dies out among our kind: you most definitely still have some relations roaming this world, unaware that you are now free to return to them."

"If I had been missed, it has been too long since I left, so there would be little celebration upon my return," Saix said, flipping his hair over his shoulder when the wind picked up. "I need no relations. Kinship is not my forte."

Garmjaw was about to argue, again, but the beast suddenly froze, back straight and nose held high as he inhaled deeply. With little theatrics, he transformed once more, growling as he assumed his monstrous wolf body.

"Then we will just have to settle with being comrades in arms," he said, ears perked and twitching erratically. "Your former prey are coming, in large numbers."

Leaping down after the werewolf, Saix hid his alarm well as he belatedly increased his scanning capacity to encompass a wider area of woods. Very faintly could he pick up on the presence of Heartless. He clenched his hand several times, impatiently summoning his claymore, and when that failed he had to abandon scanning to concentrate entirely on acquiring his weapon.

It didn't take long before he could hear the hordes of Heartless nearing. From their moans, howls and screeches he knew they were Wight Nights, Search Ghosts and Gargoyles. They sounded ravenous, and were not simply passing by: this group had detected them, and were coming right at them with a purpose.

"Forget the blade!" Garmjaw snapped, crouched and ready to pounce at anything that came through the trees. "Tooth and claw are all we need! Come, Isa, show me how to do away with 'powerful creatures' with your bare hands!"

Saix tried again, and then once more, but his hand remained empty. The shadowy woods around them were dotted with glowing eyes. There was no time left to waste. Giving up, Saix ripped off his gloves, but the rage wasn't there. When armed with his claymore he could fight well enough relying on inner rage, but against such an onslaught of enemies, unarmed save for his claws, he'd need the berserker power if he were to secure a definite victory with the least amount of damage to his person.

'All my misery ... All that I've lost, I lost to the darkness,' he reminded himself, purposefully bringing up painful memories. 'It is my enemy ... It destroyed everything I possibly loved ... It stole my heart and soul, and left my body to rot into nothingness ... '

A Gargoyle, feeling bold because of its advantage of flight, broke away from the mass and dove down towards them, its powerful beak wide and its talons reaching. Saix locked eyes with it, and realized that he was its intended kill, despite Garmjaw being the one with the heart. Unaware of this unusual development, Garmjaw jumped out in front Saix and intercepted the Gargoyle, clamping down on its long neck with a powerful bite that caused the Heartless to veer to the left, where it crashed to the ground before engaging the formidable werewolf in a fang to beak battle.

' ... These creatures thrive in the darkness I loathe ... ' Saix went on, bracing himself as more and more Heartless broke away from the shadows. A burn was beginning to stir in his chest. It was not the rage he was familiar with, but it was something.

'I lost everything to the darkness... '

None of the Heartless paid Garmjaw any mind. All eyes were locked hungrily on Saix. A Wight Night lunged at him, spinning its clawed hands in wide arches directed at Saix's midriff. Digging his heels into the ashy ground, Saix snarled as his vision sharpened and his eyes glowed.

'I became nothing ... '

The Wight Night shrieked as he caught it by the head and smashed its skull against the boulder. Tossing aside the disintegrating corpse, Saix was only aware of his next opponent, despite being surrounded on all sides and completely cut off from Garmjaw.

' ... The darkness destroyed me ... '

The Gargoyle's wing came off in his hand, rendering the creature flightless before he twisted its neck until the bones snapped and the flesh tore. Roaring, he moved on to his next target, no longer hearing anything but his own voice in his mind.

' ... But from that same darkness, came the one ray of light ...The darkness dared me to hope ... It offered me one chance ... '

Another Gargoyle. It fared no better than the first, even dying a lot quicker. A third came forth, and was dispatched just as swiftly, its lifeless body used to eliminate numbers four and five with one vicious swing.

' ... Because of the darkness, I was recruited into the Organization ... Because of the darkness, I met the Superior ... '

Jumping over the pile of mangled Wight Nights, he caught a Search Ghost before it could fade away to safety. Its neck cracked in his fist, causing its other eyeball to pop out as it drifted motionlessly to the ground before vanishing.

' ... I had hoped ... had strived to live ... I had found a purpose, an identity, a meaning ... I had found my master, who would guide me through the darkness, to my heart ... '

The rage was intense. This was no longer about harnessing and using its power: this was about unleashing it, again and again.

' ... I lost my heart ... I've lost my Superior ... Now, truly, I have lost everything ... everything ... to nothing ... to the darkness ... '

Heartless, all around him. He wanted them all dead. He wanted them all crushed, tortured and slaughter. He wanted to hear their screams, to sense their fear. He had the drive. He had the rage. So many ... yet not enough. He'd kill them all. Every last one of them would fall to him, and the darkness would woe the day it so foolishly toyed with his heart, mind and soul.

' ... to lose everything to nothingness ... to lose the Superior ... '

They were running; retreating; fleeing. Saix followed, slowly, watching the chaotic scene without hearing a sound.

" ... there is no hope ... " he said, grabbing a Gargoyle by the tail and ripping out its entire spine.

He would not let them escape. If he could not escape his fate, then neither could they. For them to even attempt something so foolish was an insult.

"ALL SHALL BE LOST TO YOU!"

The world turned a blinding white, but his senses, sharper than they'd ever been, guided him. He could feel the struggling bodies in his grasp. Every rip, snap, jerk and splinter of flesh and bones echoed in his ears. Nothing but shrieks and screams, blending together so beautifully in a cacophony of terror and agony.

On and on ... it was never enough ... there had to be more ... Where were they? ... He was ready to fight! ... Dare they hide from him, like cowards? He'd hunt them down, ever last one of them! He would—!

"Isa!"

Slammed to the ground, his blood-thirsty thoughts derailed, Saix panted heavily, suddenly feeling weaker than he'd ever felt before. A drop of blood landed on his cold nose. It had come from the gash above Garmjaw's brow as the beast leaned over him, looking as surprised as his wolfish features would allowed him. Shaking his head in disbelief, Garmjaw released him but remained next to him, hands held up in a placating manner.

"Stay calm," he said gravely as Saix slowly pushed himself upright. Despite his own advice, Garmjaw looked rattled by what he was seeing. He held out a hand as though to touch Saix's face, but withdrew. "Keep your thoughts calm and your rage in check."

Confused as to what the other was going on about, Saix suddenly realized that something _was _wrong. His hands ... his feet ... fur and claws ...

" ... no ... " he growled, finding it very difficult to articulate: his vocal cords felt as though gravel had been poured over them, and his lips seemed to have lost their flexibility. " ... wot ... what ... "

Pushing away the hands that tried to stop him, he stumbled to the pool. His heavy tail helped his balance, but he found that walking on all fours was much quicker. With Garmjaw following at a distance, he reached the water's edge and peered in.

He recognized his eyes, but the face that stared back at him from the water's still surface wasn't his. His scar was gone, buried beneath thick fur. Diamond studs still graced his ears, though, and the fur down his neck was as long as his hair had been.

He was staring at a monster. The monster he'd finally become.

" ... no ... no ... NO!" he roared, backing away in revulsion.

"Stay calm," Garmjaw ordered, never letting more than a couple of feet stretch between them. "The more worked up you get, the longer you'll remain like this. Transformation can be controlled, used whenever one pleases, but until you have mastered this ability it are you emotions that manipulate this ability."

Emotions ... He couldn't have emotions. He was a Nobody. His very being was one of none-being ... That couldn't have changed ... could it? But if he lacked the capacity to feel, then where was this harrowing sensation of fear and helplessness coming from? If he could 'feel' those, what did that make him now ... ? What had he become ... ?

"_Enough_, Isa." Clawed hands pierced his shoulders and gave them a firm shake, causing Saix's head to snap back violently, effectively drawing his attention away from his spiralling thoughts and onto Garmjaw's eyes. "I can help you, but first you must learn to control yourself."

" ... ca ... can't ... how ... don't know ... "

"Your emotions control your transformation in its early stages. To revert to your other form you must thus clear your mind and ease your body."

He couldn't calm down. His breathing grew more shallow. This new body, these new thoughts, these unbearable new feelings that had no place in his hollow chest ...

Smooth hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look up. Garmjaw had transformed to his human form. His more expressive facial features revealed his concern, but also his determination.

"Is this what you want, to stay trapped in a cycle of confusion and despair? Listen to me, Isa! If you cannot trust yourself to solve this, then trust _me_. Trust me when I say that, whatever happened, this is not the end of you. Do not give in to it, and I promise you will regain your control."

Saix looked the other in the eyes, yet it was a different voice he heard. One from long ago, who had made a similar promise ...

"_Calm yourself ... I will help you ... Obey me, and I will give you control ... Join me, and I will give you your heart ... Trust me, and I will make you complete once more ... "_

' ... Superior ... '

Though it was Garmjaw's, not the Superior's face before him when he opened his eyes, Saix exhaled, his muscles loosening.

"Good," Garmjaw encouraged, lowering himself onto his stomach as well when Saix sank to the ground. "It will come to you on its own. It won't be pleasant, but you're already halfway there. You will get used to the effects of reversal soon enough. In such early stages of development, it can take up to ten minutes to completely transform. With some practice, you should be able to shift into either shapes instantaneously. Take your time."

Listening only to the other's voice, Saix flinched when his bones began to grind against each other as his tail retracted and his limbs shortened. His gums itched as his great teeth shrunk. He sneezed several times as the itch spread into his nasal cavity while his long snout disappeared. His skin absorbed the blue fur, causing such uncomfortable sensation it made him nauseous. Reeling, disoriented, he lost track of time and progress, wanting only for it all to stop.

It wasn't until something heavy was draped over his bare shoulder that he realized it was finally over. He held up his hands, and the sight of their smooth, pale texture worked well to settle his stomach. He was ... himself again. Gripping the loaned cloak tightly, he hesitated to thank the one who had helped him through the ordeal.

"Shamed, are you?" Garmjaw asked, taking no offense to the lack of gratitude. "Don't be. You will master this soon enough. Everyone suffers during their first transformation. I was traumatized my first time, my father told me, very much amused at the memory. Apparently, I cried in my mother's claws for days on end afterwards—Careful!"

Swaying on his feet, Saix shrugged off the hands that tried to steady him. His limbs and spine still ached, especially his joints. It felt as though he'd been stretched and tortured on a rack for hours.

"It all takes some getting used to. Your body will adjust in time," Garmjaw reassured.

"How did this happen?" Saix asked, though his voice was still too raw to convey his accusatory threat; it sounded exhausted and broken. "Never before ... how ... why now?"

"By no powers of mine, if that is what you are implying. The only way to pass on the mark of the werewolf is either through biting, and we both would have remembered if I'd bitten you at some point during our brief acquaintance, or hereditary. Keep the cloak for now: you need it more than I do."

"My clothes; my coat ... "

"Destroyed, I reckon. It was not designed to withstand and adjust to transformation." Garmjaw did look around, but the clothing article was nowhere in sight. "But perhaps it is a sign? You were unable to summon your weapon at all this time, nor could you cast any spells, _and_ you transformed ... It would seem, Isa, that you have finally been released by your former captors' power, though I am unsure whether you will celebrate the fact, given how oddly dedicated you are to the ones who had suppressed your true nature."

Saix felt compelled to defend the Organization, yet when given the chance he said nothing. He no longer knew where his allegiance should lie. Out of habit, he still felt bound to the Organization, but his behaviour towards the Superior had been nothing short of traitorous, and his was a crime that had apparently been punished through exile. His powers had failed him, yet at least some form of emotions had returned to him. In one form he was a Nobody, and in the other a werewolf. Which side was he on? Or rather, which side was he _meant_ to be on?

His stomach cared for neither: it growled, loudly.

"Behold, you now know the cause behind my insatiable appetite," Garmjaw said. Taking Saix by the elbow, he led him away from the pool, towards in the direction of the town. "Transformation consumes a great deal of energy. A Nobody may be blessed with the capacity to go days, if not weeks, without eating, but a werewolf will starve to death within three days; five, if he doesn't transform during that timeframe. My personal taste favours wild meat, but until you have developed an identical appreciation we can buy your meals from the locals willing to do business with a pair of rogues like ourselves. Mine is a very small fortune, but it would be money well spent if it means keeping you alive ... What?"

Refusing to take another step, Saix stared at his companion.

"I owe you my thanks," he said first, weighing his words carefully, "and yet your efforts fail to make sense. You owe me nothing, so why do you continue to help me? What is it you truly expect in return?"

"It worries me that you react to kindness with suspicion. Are you not familiar with the concept of friends helping friends? Yes, I too do it for my own personal gain: I do not want to be alone again, hence why I will not leave you to your own fate. But my motives aren't completely selfish. I cannot, and will not, keep you here against your will, but until you can at least survive on your own I cannot leave you on your own. I am not heartless."

'But I am,' Saix thought, still unable to gauge the other's motives.

The grey trees thinned out as the road widened. Following the curve of the Graveyard's creaking fence, the two of them said nothing for a long time, though there was no awkwardness in their silence. Garmjaw, his mind as occupied as Saix's, roused himself from his reverie as a flight of ghost howled by overhead.

"Why did they only go after you?"

"I am not sure," Saix confessed, needing no context to know what Garmjaw was talking about. "I do not possess what the Heartless crave. It should have been you they were after."

"Has your kind been fighting them for long? An ancient feud between Heartless and Nobodies? Perhaps, having detected your loss of power, they were driven to eliminate an old enemy." Garmjaw looked down to where a rotund black cat was rubbing its head against his leg. Gently nudging the foul thing away, he allowed it to trail after them as they reached the dilapidated homes situated on the town's outer edge. "I could not help but notice, though, that there has been a sudden increase in these Heartless. I cannot recall having encountered so many in so brief a time. In fact ... the swell in their numbers seem to coincide with your appearance ... "

"Are you suggesting that I am behind this?" Saix hissed, adjusting the cloak against the wind.

"Given the ferocity with which you fight them, I doubt there is any allegiance between you and them. Still, if you did not bring them here, then it can be surmised that they've followed you, or, at the very least, are drawn to you. Those things have you marked, Isa."

"Do not think the thought hasn't crossed my mind."

The house they were passing suddenly began to shake, causing one of its few remaining shutters to fall off into the street, crashing and splintering at their feet. The front door slammed open and a massive ogress poked out her head, her shoulders too wide to allow the rest of her to step foot outside her own house. Squinting down at Saix and Garmjaw with her beady eyes, she adjusted her stained glasses with an alarmed gasp, causing the folds of chins to wobble unattractively.

"Brickabrack, what did I tell you about prowling with strangers?!" she shrieked in a high voice that did not suit her large size.

The cat, which Said had almost forgotten, yowled and trotted up the creaking steps, morphing as it did so until a fat child with a head full of real pigtails stood at the top of the steps before her equally grotesque mother.

"Mummy, werewolves!" she squealed, pointing down at them with a flabby arm.

"_Pack-less_ werewolves, precious. You will sully our good name if you're seen in their company," said the mother. She managed to squeeze a gigantic hand through the doorframe and grabbed her daughter in her fist. Pulling her child inside, she glared at the two males. "Off with you both! Traipsing about like this, flouting your exile for everyone to see! Disgraceful! I'm going to write the Mayor about this, just you wait and see! I might even take this up with the Pumpkin King himself! Scandalous! Slanderous!"

The door slammed shut again. The entire house swayed from side to side as the ogress' heavy footsteps disappeared deeper into the dwelling. Another shutter fell off, landing in the bone-strewn, weed-infested garden.

"If I had a crooked penny for every threat I've ever received I'd be able to afford eating out in the finest restaurant for the rest of my life," Garmjaw said, dismissing the ogress' words with a chuckle. "The Mayor is two-faced, but spineless, and the Pumpkin King has bigger things to worry about: Halloween is only 345 days away."

"He plans ahead," Saix said dryly.

Being a natural citizen of this nightmarish world, Garmjaw could not openly mock his fellow Halloweeners' obsession with the holiday, but he still smirked at Saix's comment.

"Now then, what will be _your _delight this fine evening?" he asked as Guillotine Plaza came into view at the end of the flaming-skull-lit street. "I personally recommend the darkling duck sold by the hag over on Hangman's Way. She is one of the few who specializes in werewolf cuisine, and will serve anyone as long as they have both the money and a ready supply of compliments to offer her. The duck is filling and, if she's in an agreeable mood, the hag will even season it with some enchantment that will ease your sore joints and muscles. And she might know a disreputable tailor who would be willing to fashion us more respectable wear. My old tailor was eaten by goblins during a disagreement over a card game, you see."

"Respectable wear? Do not all werewolves dress like you?" Saix asked, looking at the tattered pants the other wore.

"Certainly not. I must admit, I have let myself go, in terms of appearance. I had no need to look civilized when it was just me, but I admit to feeling more self-conscious now that it is the two of us. I suppose I must make an effort to look my best, if not to shame you in public."

" ... How gallant."

Laughing, Garmjaw grabbed his hand and pulled him along, a sudden spring in his step as he began listing even more delicacies they could pick up along the way. Saix stared at their joint hands, though his fingers did not grip Garmjaw's. He looked over at his companion, who suddenly seemed younger, more lively, than before. Picking up on Saix's staring, Garmjaw met his eyes, still smiling. He stopped walking and held up their hands, palm to palm.

"After what happened in the woods tonight, I am more convinced than ever that it was meant to be. Our meeting in the Graveyard couldn't have been incidental. We were both alone, in need of support, and now we've found it in each other. I am truly glad I met you, Isa."

Not one who was familiar with confessions of such nature, Saix nodded uncertainly, then cleared his throat and looked away. Was this a werewolf-thing? If so then he had much to learn and adjust to.

"Your assistance has been invaluable to me as well," he said. "I am ... fortunate to have met your acquaintance."

"Knowing you, I'll take that as flattery."

Growling, Saix pulled his hand away, which only made Garmjaw laugh again. They crossed the narrow bridge together, walking close enough to occasionally brush shoulders, ignoring the angry mutters of the troll whose sleep had been disrupted by their footsteps. A few minutes later, as he and Garmjaw parted to allow a headless horseman to ride through, chasing the bats that had stolen his pumpkin, Saix realized that he could get used to this twisted world. In fact, as the sights, sounds and smells lost their appalling effect on him, it felt like this was where he might truly belong, with the rest of the monsters.

Somehow, that did not sound as offensive anymore.

'Perhaps I am now finally ready to move on ... '

* * *

When Roxas thought 'Lord of the Dead', the first thing that didn't come to mind was 'car salesman', yet Hades' manner speaking was a dead ringer—no pun intended—to that of a retailer Roxas had once observed trying to sell off a used pile of junk on wheels to a naive man in Twilight Town. Not that Roxas was a renowned scholar when it came to mythology, but he would have sworn that someone with the title of Lord of the Dead would be a lot less ... lively.

Yes, Hades looked every bit the part of a ruler of the Underworld. With his terrifying teeth, black robes and flaming hair, he embodied every aspect of death and doom. Sitting on his dark throne, strumming his pointy fingers on one armrest while his other hand propped up his angular head, he exuded an air of otherworldly arrogance and authority that the Superior would kill to possess.

And yet ...

"Okay, okay, okay. Lemme get this straight," Hades said impatiently, waving a hand to interrupt Xigbar, which was further proof of his powers: anyone else would have had their hand shot off for interrupting the Freeshooter. Speaking in that rapid-fire tone, he went on, "You want me, Hades, God of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, to help you, a bunch of nobodies, to get your nobody leader and another nobody back together, so that you can all continuing doing ... whatever it is nobodies do to keep yourself entertained. And you want me to do this by bringing back to life a bunch of people that aren't even under my jurisdiction. Hmmmm. Lemme see ... " He stroked his long chin with a deeply pensive thought. "Er ... No."

"Wow. What a meanie," Demyx said softly for only Roxas and Axel to hear as they stood in the background, trying to keep as far away from Hades as possible.

"'Scuse me?"

The three of them jumped when Hades's towering form suddenly materialized before them in a puff of noxious smoke. Cupping an ear as he leaned down towards Demyx, his conversational voice contradicted the red tinge of the flame on his head.

"Yeah, probably got a chunk of brimstone stuck in my ear again. Didn't quite catch that. Got something you want to share with the rest of the class, sunshine? Come on, speak up. Old Hades hasn't been topside for a while, you know. Need to keep up with all the 'hip' lingo you young people keep inventing just to annoy the rest of us. Just a couple of days ago I was walking along the Styx—you know, gotta keep in shape—when I met the cutest little lost spirit you've ever seen. Must have been, oh, fifteen, sixteen when she bit the mortal dust. I don't like kids, so I was gonna just leave her there, but then she started talking. Ugh!" His disgust was emphasized with a violent flare of fire that spread from his head, down his neck and along his arms. "She. Just. Wouldn't. Shut. Up. I think she was speaking English, but oh my god, I, like, had _totally_ no idea what she was yapping about. So I threw her to a bunch of hungry demons. Ripped her apart in no time. Man, was it blissfully quiet afterwards ... Now, what's the moral of today's story? Kids should be seen, not heard. Why don't you three go outside and fall into a bottomless pit while us adults discuss things, eh?"

All of that said without a single pause for breath. Maybe the Lord of the Dead didn't breathe. He did pant, though, baring his sharp teeth as he continued to leer at Demyx, who, much to Roxas' admiration, hadn't died of fright ... yet.

"Yeeeaaah. You can't hold Demyx accountable for his own words," Xigbar said, performing a teleporting trick of his own to come between Demyx and the volatile god. "He doesn't think before he speaks. We're not sure he ever thinks, period."

"H-Hey!" Demyx sputtered, but the combined glare of both Hades and Xigbar caused him to retreat behind Axel, where there wasn't much room since Roxas had already taken cover there.

"To his credit," Xigbar said, leading Hades away from the trio, "Demyx really likes Cerberus: he only joined in the fight when I threatened him with a year's worth of cleaning duties if he didn't."

"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way," Hades sneered. "Now I'm without a guard dog for at least a week while Cerberus heals."

"In our defence, shouldn't Cerberus only attack those trying to_ leave _the Underworld, not enter it?"

"Look, I didn't read the fine print when I got the mutt, okay? Met a dodgy dealer in a cloak, and I might have been a teensy-weensy bit drunk, and there was betting involved and the next thing I know I wake up and find myself the proud owner of a three-headed demon dog who hasn't been housebroken yet. Life sucks, but the Afterlife blows. Whatcha gonna do about it? Well, it was nice talking to you ... whatever the heck you are, but I'm a busy man, as you can see. The dead don't condemn themselves, ya know. Busy, busy, busy. My henchmen will show you to the door. Oy, I need a vacation. Pain! Panic! Geez, what's taking them so long? You'd think they'd figure out a way to re-grown torn limbs faster. Memo to me: kill them, get better minions. HEY, MAGGOTS!!"

Life under the Superior's regime was looking a whole lot more appealing right about now, Roxas thought. Maybe they were been too nitpicky about certain facets ... While his appreciation for their usually-non-violent, none-fire-hazardous leader grew, in stumbled two diminutive demons who looked about as right for the roles of Hades' henchmen as Xaldin would as a babysitter.

"Pain!" winced the fat red one.

"Panic!" wheeze the skinny blue one.

"Reporting for duty!" they both exclaimed, then collapsed as their wobbly legs, which were still healing, gave out from under them.

"Little advice to take back to your leader, from one tyrant to another: don't hire the first person who answers your ads in the paper," Hades said to Xigbar. He kicked one of the minions, but it didn't move. "These things should come with some sort of guarantee, or a free replacement. Great, now I'm down one possessed guard dog and two servants. Do I have to do _everything_ around here? All I need now is for the entire Underworld to turn into a Heartless playground and those three old fate farts to show up with their floating eyeball and predict, yet _again_, that I am going to be defeated by Wonder Boy, and then my prissy perfect day will just end on an orgasmic high note!"

By now the ominously dark throne room had become a whirling vortex of flames. Roxas, Axel and Demyx had to combine their powers in order to produce an Aeroga spell strong enough to withstand the god's burning wrath. Blinking through the sweat dripping from his brow, Roxas looked around for their senior member, only to discover that Xigbar was the calmest one in the room. He just stood there, untouched by the flames, his arms crossed and his lips curved in a conniving grin. As far as the Freeshooter was concerned, this one was in the bag ... Xigbar's mind worked in many mysterious ways.

Sweeping his hand through his fiery mane, Hades took several deep breaths and rolled his shoulders.

"I'm cool, I'm cool ... Eh, you still here? Whadya want, an official notice with my signature on it? Beat it before I get really mad."

"Wouldn't be so agitated if you weren't so stressed, right?" Xigbar asked, setting his plan in motion and causing much worry amongst the other three as they feared for his life and theirs. Slinging an arm around Hades' elbows—unable to reach the god's shoulders because of their heights—Xigbar steered the glowering lord away from the younger members. "Look, we all got problems, and I couldn't help noticing during your little, er, monologue that we might just be able to help each other. Not being all-powerful gods like yourself, we can't help you fight fate, but we might be able to do something about this Heartless infestation you mentioned earlier. It's not much, what I'm offering, but wouldn't it be nice to be able to focus on dealing with this 'Wonder Boy' without being distracted by those damn Heartless all the time?"

Hades still didn't look convinced, but at least his hair remained a nice, safe blue. Sensing that he was getting somewhere, Xigbar added the finishing touch to his manipulation.

"Wonder Boy ... You wouldn't happen to be talking about Hercules, would you?"

Hades' nostrils flared and Xigbar quickly stepped away as a flash of red fire erupted from the god's head. Demyx jumped, but was held back by Axel.

"I'm a little confused, however," Xigbar said, taking the reaction as a confirmation. "See, we got wind a while back about a league of powerful beings—yourself included—who were cut down by someone who was _not_ Hercules."

Axel suddenly tensed.

Demyx stole an anxious glance at Roxas.

Roxas blinked, confused.

Hades snarled.

Xigbar smiled sympathetically.

"Wouldn't want that kid showing up again, would you? Apparently, he and Wonder Boy make a good team. Being such a busy god with far more important things on your mind, you wouldn't want to waste your precious time on that brat if ever he showed up again. Here's my proposal: we will clear the Underworld of all the Heartless, _and_ I canguarantee you that that kid will never mess with your plans ever again."

"Got any proof? Eye witnesses? Signed confessions? Photographs? His cold, dead, rotten body?"

Suddenly lowering his voice, Xigbar lead the interested god to the windows, their backs turned to the other three. Roxas frowned at the abrupt secrecy. He frowned even more when Axel and Demyx didn't appear to be as clueless as he was. Axel was good at uncovering secrets he was not meant to know, but _Demyx_? It was a bit of an insult to be even less aware of a situation than the Nocturne.

"You think Xigbar's gonna offer up one of us as a sacrifice after all?" Roxas asked Axel softly.

"Yeah, dummy, that's exactly what we need: to lose _another_ member," Axel said, very obviously hiding something behind that mocking response. "Just wait and see. Xigbar knows what he's doing."

"Who's the kid that defeated Hades before? How come I never heard of him?" Roxas then asked Demyx, hoping that Demyx would do what he did best: mess up and slip up.

"Nobody—I mean, not that he _is_ a Nobody ... er, was a Nobody ... I ... um ... "

"Just some punk who also had a Keyblade," Axel butted in, finding what had to be the most interesting spot of wall he'd ever laid eyes on. "Came out of nowhere, did some damage, then vanished. Whatever he was up to, we never bothered to find out. Probably went into one too many battles and lost. No one's heard from him in a very long time."

There was something fishy going on here. Now Demyx had found his own patch of wall to become fixated on, and Axel nervously scratched the back of his neck under Roxas' betrayed glare, yet he did not change his story nor offer any more details, fabricated or not.

"Oh, reeeeeaaaally?"

... _Why _was the Lord of the Dead now glowering at _him_?

Xigbar quickly said something, urging Hades to back around.

"What the hell was that?" Roxas asked, grabbing Axel's sleeve and tugging insistently. "Did you see that? What's Xigbar telling him? What's it got to do with me?"

Axel and Demyx shared one of those irritating knowing looks. It really wouldn't have been this frustrating for Roxas if it had been anyone but Demyx. He really liked Demyx, but ... It was _Demyx_! Since when had he become so good at keeping secrets? He'd once been roped into helping Axel rig a few explosions in Vexen's laboratory, then unintentionally ratted them both out by asking Zexion how best to destroy the evidence. This was the guy who'd once lost at hide and seek ... while playing by _himself_.

"Sold!" Hades exclaimed, clasping hands with Xigbar while sharing devilish grins that would cause the instantaneous deaths of a thousand kittens, before heading back over to where Axel, Demyx and Roxas—who still wondered why Hades kept giving him poorly concealed looks of pure hatred—stood at the centre of the room.

"Come on, people, work with me here," Hades said, shooing them to the side. "Be a good audience and just stand by, watch, and applaud when prompted, okay? Love ya. I don't like any of you any more than you like me so let's just get this over with and get you guys out of my hair."

Demyx was about to say something thoughtless and stupid here, but a slap upside the head from Xigbar silenced him just in time.

"Okey-dokey. Let me see ... " Hades thought for a moment. "Gotta say, I like a challenge. Bringing people back from the dead? Piece a cake. There are so many of them I'm literally tripping over them every time I step foot outside my front door. Never got a request like this before, though, and I really wouldn't waste time trying it out if it didn't promise a very tempting payoff."

"Only if you can find them," Xigbar reminded, watching with interest as a shining hole began to widen in the middle of the floor. "Nothingness isn't the same as Death, is it?"

"Nope, but everything's got a counterpart. Guy; girl. Good; bad. Alive; dead. Existence; nonexistence. Marriage; suicide. You get the drift," Hades said, lazily churning the swirling green fog with a hand until it turned black. "And since there's no such thing as Nothingness, anything that was alive must go somewhere when time runs out. And wouldn't ya know it, I happen to rule over a world that's nothing more than one big dumping ground for the living world's leftovers. If it was kicking around up there, it ended up down here."

A scream suddenly rose from the brewing pit. A bloodcurdling, spine-chilling wail of unbelievable despair that was absolutely heartbreaking to hear—

"Shaddup!" Hades sighed, blasting a ball of fire into the smoke. "Jeez, what a drama queen. But hey, it's a good thing. Means the way's now open. If I fish around long enough I might be able to bring back the two you mentioned, er ... what were their names again?"

And then it happened—and Roxas was sure that if were to look out the window he'd see that hell itself had finally frozen over: Xigbar managed to look even more demonic than the Lord of the Dead himself.

"A couple of old friends of ours," the Freeshooter said, drawing all eyes towards him. "I think they still go by their old names: Marluxia and Larxene."

TBC ...

* * *

**A/N**: Heh, I was tempted to end that with a clichéd "DUN-DUN-DUUNNNN!" instead of the usual TBC ...

Not much Xemnas in this chapter, I'm afraid, but with him accompanying Xaldin on his next mission I think ya'll can guess what's coming up. Yup: Xemnas/Saix confrontation!! What will their reactions be? And how will Garmjaw take this new/old threat to his and Saix's budding relationship? And what will Xaldin do about it on his own? And how will Xigbar and Roxas and Axel and Demyx react to the news? And how the fuck will bringing Marluxia and Larxene back from the dead—er, phase-of-none-existence-all-Nobodies-face help anything? And will Luxord really turn out to be the father of the Port Royal tavern wench's triplets???

... Okay, so that last one is probably best saved for another time, but there's a lot of stuff going down in chapter 10! (And no, it won't be the final chapter.)

Read & Review, please.

(PS. I know it is cumbersome for me to put "Read & Review, please." at the end of every chapter, since you've obviously already read it and whether you review it is entirely up to you, but it just makes the ending of a chapter look more complete. Never mind what it actually says: just consider "Read & Review, please" to be one overly long full stop. It's just my way of closing off another chapter. It's a force of habit I cannot break, much like promising myself to eat just one chocolate cookie a day and then inhaling the entire pack in the time it takes me to walk the thirty or so paces from the kitchen to my computer.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Mission Impossible

**Author:** Ladya C. Maxine

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** see chapter one

**Warnings:** see chapter one

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am not making any money off of this. I write only to entertain.

* * *

Sometimes things simply didn't got according to plan.

Finding himself in an empty Castle That Never Was, Luxord twirled a card between his fingers as he stood alone in the Superior's office, counting to himself just how many things could have happened in his absence that would explain why he'd returned to find, not just Xaldin, but their leader missing as well.

"Massster ... "

In floated one of his Gambler minions.

"And?" Luxord asked. "Have you searched the entire city?"

" ... Yesss."

"And?"

" ... gone ... nothing."

"Strange," Luxord said, renewing his pacing while his minion slithered and quivered in its place. "Xaldin wouldn't have deserted his post. But if he had, and if the Superior had chosen that crucial moment to come down to survey our progress, only to find us all missing ... Surely, the Superior wouldn't take it upon himself to go out and look for us. Has he gone off on a mission of his own? Would that he'd left a message of any kind."

"Massster!" called a second Gambler nobody, swooping in with one of the Superior's Sorcerers right behind it. The Gambler nobody gestured excitedly to its more powerful kin. "Massster, newsss!"

The Sorcerer, pulsating like the very heart it lacked, gave a stiff, shallow bow before speaking.

"My Massster ... the Dragoon Massster too ... both left."

"The Superior left with Xaldin? When?" Luxord asked.

" ... hasss been hoursss."

"Where did they go?"

" ... know not ... only know ... My Massster ... Dragoon Massster ... same missssion."

"Mission ... You mean Xaldin's next mission." Luxord leaned against the large expanse of glass overlooking the castle turrets and walkways below. "Well, that's some relief: at least neither of them have been kidnapped and whisked away to some faraway world. Now, where did Xaldin say he'd be heading off to next ... ?"

A Corridor opened up right in the middle of the room, almost engulfing the Sorcerer, who, having shared everything it knew, departed as silently as it had arrived. Less stealthily, Demyx staggered out of the Corridor, flustered and nervous.

"Hey, there you are!" he said, now looking extremely relieved that he could unburden his latest problems on someone else. "We've got some good news—"

"Splendid!" Luxord smiled, slapping the Nocturne on the back. "Perfect timing, lads. The Superior and Xaldin are away, abandoning me with all these unfinished missions. So then, have you succeeded in your task?"

"—and some bad news," Demyx hesitantly completed the sentence Luxord had so ungallantly interrupted. He looked back at the Corridor, which he hadn't yet closed. "Succeeded? Er, you could kinda say that ... "

"What? Was Hades unable to find those two?"

"Er ... He's still working on it," Demyx said, reaching an arm back into the portal and feeling about. "There's been a teensy-weensy little bit of a mix up and things got a bit crazy over there, so Xigbar told us to return to base while he, Roxas and Axel stayed behind."

"_Us_? If Xigbar, Axel and Roxas are still waiting on Hades to find Marluxia and Larxene, then who did you return with?" Luxord asked.

The tip of his tongue sticking out as he searched the Corridor, Demyx caught hold of something and pulled hard, yanking his unenthusiastic companion out.

"Ai! Show some respect, _IX_!" snapped a very familiar voice from a very familiar sour face.

" ... Oh dear," Luxord muttered to himself before putting on a welcoming smile. "It is good to see you again too, Vexen."

* * *

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone," Roxas said, using a low flame to carefully melt away the ice that encased Axel's arm.

"Hey, I was just trying to be friendly," Axel said heatedly, sullenly resting his chin on his other hand. "What's wrong with offering a handshake? He's the one who threw a royal tantrum and attacked me! Geez, talk about holding a grudge. You'd think dying would have helped bury the hatchet. And what's taking you so long? Let me do it. Fire's my speciality anyway."

"Not when you're like this. You'll only end up burning yourself."

" ... would not."

Axel did settle down to allow Roxas to continue his self-assigned work unchallenged.

"Save me! Please, don't send me back down there!"

Roxas sighed sympathetically at the shimmering form struggling in Hades' cold grip. Standing over the pit of nothingness, the Lord of the Underworld leaned aside to allow Xigbar a better view at his latest catch.

"This one of them?" he asked the Freeshooter.

"Nuh-uh," Xigbar said. Lounging in Hades' great stone throne, he poured another goblet of smoking brew. "Man, how can you stand it, listening to these whiners all day long?"

"No! Not back in there! Anywhere but there! Mercy, I beg you!" shrieked the female ghost/spirit as Hades held her back over the pit. "I'll do anything! Just don't send me back down there!"

"Tell me about it," Hades said to Xigbar with a roll of his eyes as he carelessly dropped the woman back into the void. "Every day, all day, 'Save my soul!' this, and 'Give me another chance!' that, and 'Please, stop torturing me!' something-or-the-other. What am I, their counsellor? I've got an entire realm of eternal misery to run: I can't be bothered by all this 'cruel and unusual punishment' and 'abuse of authority' crap! Pass another one. Easy on the worms."

Teleporting a filled goblet, complete with one large worm, into the thirsty god's hand, Xigbar stretched and rose from his seat to join Hades at the edge with a goblet of his own. The two continued to discuss the many things they had in common, sharing a good laugh over the misfortune of those suffering beneath their feet.

"Shouldn't we be the least bit worried that Xigbar and the Lord of the Dead are drinking buddies?" Roxas asked Axel.

"Sorry," Axel said, scratching the back of his head as he looked away.

"I said: shouldn't we be the least bit—"

"I heard that part. I was ... I'm sorry."

"Huh? ... Oh, I don't mind doing this," Roxas said, almost done with defrosting the hand.

Looking increasingly uncomfortable even though he could now wriggle his fingers, Axel pulled a leg up and stared out the window, down at the misty grounds littered with jagged rocks and scattered bones.

"Not that," he said after clearing his throat. "About what happened earlier in the tunnel. Could have seriously injured you if it hadn't been for Xigbar. I should have been more careful."

"What's with you?" Roxas asked, growing suspicious. "Did you break something in my room again? You still owe me 280 munny for my stereo."

"No, I didn't break anything," Axel said with a straight face. "It's ... It's just ... I don't know. This whole Saix thing just got me thinking."

"About how it's all your fault?"

"Hey! ... Alright, so that too. But, I mean, it occurred to me how weird it is, suddenly not having him around. And it wasn't until I saw old sourpuss again—"

"Vexen."

"—that I realized that ... I think I actually missed him. I miss having everyone together."

Axel's arm were now ice-free, but Roxas was listening so intently he didn't move away, his hand still on Axel's. It was amazing to see the redhead at a loss for words, but even more so was that he had broached such a sentimental topic on his own and, rather than just give up and laugh it off like he usually did when he became embarrassed, Axel was determined to voice his 'feelings'.

Encouraged by Roxas' attentiveness, Axel kept talking, pausing every few seconds to gather his thoughts.

"What happened at Castle Oblivion_ had_ to happen, for the greater good. I ... I was responsible for most of it, but I did what I was told to do ... But then when I got back to headquarters, after a few days ... I realized how different things were." Folding his arms, Axel frowned thoughtfully. "It wasn't until Hades pulled out old ice-butt that I realized how ... nice it was to see him again. It reminded me of the old days again, when the Organization was unbreakable; when things were stable and life was tolerable even for us. Who would have thought a week ago that Saix would be exiled? Yeah, yeah, that's _my_ fault, but it just proves that ... anything can happen to us, and we have very little control over it."

"I suppose you're right," Roxas said.

"Who knows what could happen in the future. There could be another rift amongst us, or a mission could go really wrong for one of us: we don't know who could go next, or whether we'd be able to get them back like we're trying with Saix. What if, back in the tunnels, Xigbar hadn't been so quick to react? What if you, or Demyx, got hurt, or even killed? One moment you're there, the next you're gone ... "

Roxas couldn't make out what Axel was trying to say. Axel didn't seem to know what he was trying to say.

"Well, since we're in the Underworld, you probably could have just gone to Hades and asked him to scoop my soul out of that pit over there," Roxas joked, trying to lighten the awkward mood. "Maybe we should ask him to just bring everyone back."

"Roxas ... " Axel hadn't so much as smiled at his attempt at humour. Leaning in, he placed a hand on Roxas' spiky hair. Roxas would normally object to such childish treatment, but the look on his friend's face was neither belittling nor taunting. "You'll stay with us, won't you?"

So, that came completely out of nowhere.

"Like I have a choice? You guys are all I have. Why would I ever leave?"

Axel looked at him for a long time, giving Roxas the strongest impression that, yet _again_, a big secret was being kept from him.

"Just ... Promise me you won't leave, okay? No matter what happens."

"We're friends, Axel. I won't be throwing that away any time soon," Roxas said. "Friends stick up for each other, don't they? Come on: look at what we're all going through just to get Saix back, and I don't think any of us even consider him a friend. Things are different from before. We may be less in numbers, but as a team we're closer—whoa!"

Well, this wasn't exactly what he'd meant about being 'closer': Axel had pulled him into a hug. Pressed against the other's chest, Roxas wasn't sure whether he was meant to return the gesture or wait for Axel to release him. When he felt the hold loosen he sat back on his heels, staring at the redhead with big eyes. Axel's own eyes were downcast, but he managed a small smirk/smile.

"Strange. Sometimes ... I feel as though I still have a heart when I'm around you."

" ... Ah, Demyx took it."

"What?" Axel asked as Roxas looked around.

"Thought as much," Roxas said, confirming that the item he was looking for was indeed missing. "Demyx accidentally took the Olympus Stone with him when he left with Vexen. Our powers have been draining all this time. That must explain why you're acting all loopy."

"Hey!" Axel grabbed Roxas by the front of his coat and pulled him so close they almost butted heads. "I'm being all sincere here and you—"

"A-_hem_. Do you two want to be alone?" Xigbar's voice cut in. He and Hades were watching them with raised brows. "We could take this elsewhere if you want. I'm sure you'd rather not have an audience."

"You've got a sick mind, both of you!" Axel scowled, guiltily pushing Roxas away and standing, leaving the shorter male confused and irritated as he walked over to the join the two at the pit. "Found anything yet? We can't stay down here for much longer without the Olympus Stone."

Grinning his don't-you-just-want-to-punch-me grin, Xigbar patted Axel on the shoulder.

"Is that so? So this sudden rush to depart to more ... private locations has got nothing to do with you and blondie over there? Wow, Axel, you're shameless. He's just a kid—"

"Hang on! I think I got a live one here!" Hades said, tossing aside his goblet to reach in with both hands, only to withdraw quickly when bolts of lightning shot out of the pit. "Whoa mama! This one's a real keeper!"

Xigbar hurried over, barely dodging another angry bolt as something attempted to pull the Lord of the Underworld himself into the void.

"What was he talking about?" Roxas said, joining Axel where the redhead literally stood fuming. "What was that about you being shameless?"

"Nothing," Axel said quickly. "It's got nothing to do with you."

Of course. _Nothing_ ever had anything to do with him, hence why everything was kept a secret from him. Roxas would have argued a bit longer on how he did not appreciate being treated as a child with learning disabilities, but Xigbar, holding onto the back of Hades' black robes, yelled out to them to come and lend a hand. Axel rushed over without complaint, leaving Roxas to follow with a frustrated scowl.

"The old girl's still got it!" Xigbar laughed, digging in his heels.

Larxene did not appreciate the 'old' comment and sent forth a massive bolt, which reminded Roxas: the Savage Nymph had always been his least favourite member of the Organization.

* * *

Kneeling, Xemnas scooped up a handful of dirt and allowed it to run through his gloved fingers. It was dry, practically ash. And yet, despite the poor soil, the trees in these woods had managed to grow tall and strong; some bore toxic fruits and seeds, while others had not only taken root, but had then uprooted themselves and walked off in search of more civilized company. Blood-guzzling hummingbirds fed off the thick sap which bled from the cracks in the dry barks, and blood-guzzling-hummingbirds-eating squirrels needed only to wait for their meals to flit by before pouncing. Skeletal deer remained just out of sight, but Xemnas could hear their nervous hooves pawing the ground.

In defiance of all logic, these woods of the dead was actually teeming with life.

'Life born from nothingness,' Xemnas thought to himself, intrigued by the possibility.

Halloween Town was a world openly despised by every other member of the Organization, but to Xemnas it had always been one of the most fascinating. Indeed, he never spoke to the ghastly locals, and yet their varying state of being—ranging from living to dead to undead to undecided—was something that he, as both a Nobody and a scientist, felt compelled to study and learn from. In a world where spirits roamed, furniture could walk and some trees held steady jobs, all while possessing no heart, there could lie many answers, if one could stomach the environment long enough to find them.

Indeed, it was in this very world that they, the original six Nobodies, had made a discovery that would instil new hopes and encourage the search for others like them ...

'_Mind yourself, Xehanort,'_ said the Voice sharply. _'That is all in the past._ He_ is no longer relevant.'_

Xemnas did as told, if only to avoid getting into another tiresome argument.

'_It is for the greater good,'_ the Voice cooed. _'Any distractions in these woods could be costly.'_

That much was certainly true. Heartless had attempted to ambush him twice since he and Xaldin parted ways at the cemetery. Xemnas was certain that, being in the centre of the town, Xaldin hadn't encountered any Heartless, but out here in the wilderness they'd been bold in their attacks. It was unusual for Heartless to go after Nobodies unprovoked, and he had never observed this phenomenon in any other world. There was something in this world that was making its local hives more vicious, more reckless—

Suddenly, a dried shrub nearby rustled. Xemnas stopped, one hand slightly raised and ready. He could not detect any darkness in the area, though, and his senses were proven correct when his would-be attacker revealed itself.

Instead of a Heartless, out crawled a puppy of a canine variety he was not familiar with. It gave an excited bark and hopped over, wagging its tail so hard it barely managed to stay upright as it sniffed his boots. Pushing it aside with his foot, Xemnas continued on, but the creature had taken a liking to him and wouldn't leave well enough alone.

"Begone," Xemnas said, not wishing to sacrifice so much as an ounce of energy to deal with one wayward mutt.

"Snapper!" a female's voice called out as a cloaked figure emerged from the same direction the pup had come from. Spotting the pup running circles around Xemnas' feet, she rushed over and grabbed it. "Forgive him, sir. He's still too young to mind his manners. And don't go around in such a state, Snapper: it's immodest!"

She gave the dog's ear a smart twist, causing it to yelp before its body began to shiver and shift. After many pops and cries, a young boy no older than a year was left in her arms. Xemnas would have walked on, uninterested in the little family reunion, had the child not turned to him with bright yellow eyes. A jagged X scarred the otherwise unblemished skin between those eyes, its edges almost as sharp as the boy's fangs, which gleamed as he giggled as Xemnas' reaction.

Those eyes ... pale skin ... red scar ...

"Did he bite you?" his mother asked as she pushed back the hood of her cloak to reveal a matching scar and fierce eyes of her own.

Werewolves, just like—

'_Negligible,'_ said the Voice firmly. _'Many werewolves roam these woods. It matters nothing to us.' _

Still, Xemnas turned away, unable to look upon either faces.

"No," he said in answer to her question. "You should keep your offspring on a shorter leash. It is dangerous."

"In these parts it is you who should watch yourself," said the female, slyly passing off her threat as a generous caution. "My son and I travel under the protection of our pack. Out here, fortune favours safety in numbers. Will you be staying here for long?"

Before Xemnas could decide on whether to keep up this conversation, a blaring howl rose from somewhere deep in the woods. The pup perked up and squirmed in his mother's arms until she put him down. He scampered off ahead, obediently heading the call of his kind. Taking a few steps towards the trees, the female could not bring herself to just end the conversation at that.

"Beware the Shadow on the Moon, my good stranger," she said, brushing her lilac hair over her shoulders, suddenly looking every bit the savage her fair face belied. "Get yourself out of the wilderness in three days' time, or face the devastating effects the Shadow on the Moon will have over my less fortunate, pack-less kin. You do not want to be caught on your own when the time comes."

And she was gone, driving home her foreboding message with an equally ominous vanishing act.

Quite a few people would have been left shaking in their boots, but Xemnas was barely impressed enough to raise a brow.

"Superstitious drones," he scoffed before continuing on his way.

_This_ was why he never spoke to anyone in this world.

* * *

In its own twisted, menacing and downright revolting way, Halloween Town had a certain charm about it that had gone unnoticed by Saix during his missions in the past. Perhaps it was because he had come to accept that he was now no better than the rest of them, or perhaps there really was more to this nightmarish world than meets the unknowing eye.

"Lizard on a stick?" asked the warty golem manning the snack kiosk at the entrance of the market. An honest merchant who did not partake in false advertising, he held out a fried lizard skewered on a foot-long stick, tempting Saix to take it as though he were giving them away for free. "Try one, get one free, then buy three. Only four crunks for three!"

"No thank you," Saix said, not returning the other's joviality but not being too abrupt in his rejection either. Although Garmjaw's predictions on his increase in appetite had come true, he had yet to acquire a broad taste for some of the town's more unique cuisine. "I am only here to look around."

"Smart suit, smart suit," said the golem, giving Saix's attire an approving nod. Apparently, golems had no qualms about dealing with lone wolves. "Good look. Try one, buy one, wrap them up nicely for you! Only two crunks for one; or one munny for two."

Though not hungry, Saix accepted the offer as he realized it would be the first transaction he'd make by himself since coming here. In fact, Organization members only ever purchased items from reputable worlds like Hollow Bastion, Twilight Town, and Traverse Town. There was nothing in Halloween Town any Nobody would want, let alone pay for to get, so Saix had no knowledge or experience in the trade going on around him. Having had no munny of his own up until now, he had relied on Garmjaw to deal with the matter of making payments. Now the owner of a sizeable pouch of his own munny, however, he could begin familiarizing himself with the local commerce.

Thinking it over, Saix ran his hand through his short hair, still unaccustomed to the lack of length and weight. It had been a surprisingly difficult decision to get it cut, but Garmjaw had strongly recommended shorter locks as a measure against fleas in the upcoming winter, which was when the pest sought out the thickest, warmest hair and fur to shelter in. In the end, only the assurance from the older werewolf that Saix could grow out his hair again come spring persuaded him to take a seat in front of the six-armed arachnid barber, who was an old friend of Garmjaw and had scissors for hands and an extra pair of eyes to keep track of what all his limbs were doing. It had taken him less than a minute to achieve the desired length, after which he had offered Saix two hundred munny in exchange for the cut hair; the spidery barber had marvelled over Saix's hair, probably because he had none of his own.

So, now that he was short on hair but not on munny, and since Garmjaw, who had gone off on some secretive errand after their trip to the barber, was not around to insist on buying anything for him, Saix was free to spend his not-hard-earned cash on whatever he wanted.

"Munny!" the golem said brightly, admiring the shiny blue and gold coins Saix dropped in his three-fingered hand. Compared to the rotting paper bills and cracked pebbles and shrunken eyeballs preferred by the locals, munny was a rare luxury currency happily accepted by any reputable merchant. This golem was so thrilled with the two coins he now dropped into the front pocket of his filthy smock that he stuffed an extra lizard on a stick into the bag before passing it over the unpolished counter to Saix. "Come again, come again! Smart suit, good look, good wolf. One more, one more! Munny!"

As Saix walked away he could still hear the golem now gloating to his neighbours, a sour group of bugbears, talking about the "nice wolf in smart suit" as he counted his precious munny loudly for all to hear.

The market only came to town once a month, on the day before new moon. While Halloween Town itself was the capital of this world, there were other smaller towns and villages scattered about. Merchants were constantly on the move, gravitating from community to community as one, both as a safety measure and as a way to keep an eye on their rivals at all time. Too big to fit in Guillotine Plaza, the market's regular venue was Rat Rack Boulevard, five streets to the east of the Plaza, leading up to Blood Moon Square, which housed the ever popular pub, the Brazen Bull.

One could get anything and everything on this market, including things which one shouldn't be able to get under the hardly ever implemented law. Butchers proudly displayed their choices of meats, which ranged from so fresh they were still attached to the living creatures (already skinned) to so rotten it had turned to mush and needed to be scooped out of the barrels with mouldy ladles. The fruit stalls carried nothing but blackened produce that stank even more than the meats. Cavity-stricken children gathered in excited hordes around the candy sellers, who tempted them with things like blood-filled taffies (very popular with the vampires), exploding gobstoppers (which gave everyone the temporary ability to breathe fire), and invisible gum (which could be enjoyed by the town's ghost minority without giving away their presence). Feathery harpies shrieked at passersby to buy bouquets of stinging nettles ("For extra stings, buy two and get a free jar of angry wasps!"), but had a hard time being heard over the wails of the bloated sirens sitting in the gushing fountain ("If a mate is what you require/our songs are available for hire/for just two munny an hour/we will offer our power/to give you your un-beating heart's desire!").

Uninterested in these garish goods and services, Saix leisurely wove his way through the crowd, keeping out of everyone's way as they rushed from stall to stall with bulging bags and brimming baskets. There was little need for stealth, since no one paid any mind to anything other than the lowest prices and loudest merchants, but old habits were hard to forget. Even though he was carrying a bag of fried lizards he had personally purchased, he was not yet used to going about in the open without hood or secrecy. 'Newfound freedom,' was what Garmjaw had termed it while looking like a proud parent whose child had completed his first day of school. Saix didn't agree with the term, as it implied that he had been a helpless captive up until now.

When his mind started to drift back to the Organization Saix shifted his attention off the stalls and onto the excited crowd gathered at the end of the boulevard. Choosing a relatively quiet corner next to a dank alleyway, Saix observed the interesting scene that had drawn such a large number of shoppers whose time would have been better spent fighting over the few remaining jugs of bile beer ("Straight from the liver of Gladys Blackbridle, recently crowned Hag Mountain's deadest witch! Get it while it's hot!").

But few seemed interested in the bodily functions of old dead Gladys. This month's market was even more cramped than usual for one-third of its usual space had been reserved for its newest attraction: a black two-headed dragon who offered short aerial tours of the wild countryside to anyone who was willing to pay the outrageous fee, which only got higher and higher as the two heads—who seemed to be at constant odds with one another—took their turns bartering with financially wealthy but intellectually poor customers. Those who could not afford a ride gathered around, gaping, because while he was a terrifying sight to behold, the dragon still stood out in his horrifying surroundings. He was not covered in blood, or scabbed, or warty; neither deformed (two heads were perfectly normal here) nor mutilated; neither revolting in appearance nor offensive in smell. When compared to the locals, he looked the part of a god that had descended from the heavens; a glorified foil in a world that revelled in squalor and misery yet could still appreciate unsoiled splendour. With his shiny scales, curved horns and heavy collar made out of fallen knights' armour, glowing crystal balls and dried wyvern bones, the dragon's appearance left the crowd so spellbound they were unaware that he was scamming them for all they were worth.

"One-and-twenty munny!" roared the head on the left, which was crowned with a sparkling pink crystal tiara, even though its voice and shared body was clearly male.

"One-and-thirty pieces!" challenged the other head, tapping his diamond-studded claws impatiently on the great treasure chest they greedily owned.

"Five-and-thirty!" said the one on the left.

"Thirty-and-twenty!" said the one of the right.

"Strong wind currents today! Double it!" said the tiara-wearing head.

"Low humidity! Double your double!" said the other, admiring his claws.

"Doubled. Agreed?"

"Doubly agreed."

"Fifty-and-hundred munny!" they agreed upon instead, leaving their hapless customers—a father minotaur, a mother fox-demon and their hybrid toddler—out of the negotiations and now facing a price they had not agreed upon. The will to object, if they had any, was crushed when the dragon lowered its heads, allowing for close viewing of all its teeth, and growled, "_Agreed_. Pay up."

Father minotaur quickly searched the inner pockets of his tailored suit jacket (the only piece of clothing he wore), while his vixen nervously jiggled their horned and cloven-hoofed pup, who wore a spotless sailor suit as white as his mother's furry boa. What had started out as a nice family outing had ended in a death threat and a much lighter wallet, though few would think the latter an outrage since this family clearly came from money and thus had plenty enough left to spend on other worthless activities.

Everyone, including Saix, watched on as the minotaur helped his hesitant wife up onto the grinning dragon's back. Someone at the back of the crowd wagered that the little family would not live to step foot back on solid land, and a hat began to circulate as others wickedly joined in on the pool.

Unaware of the bets being placed on their lives (or, rather, their deaths), the family held on tight as the dragon spread his wings, which were so large they cast a shadow over the entire market and scraped a number of tiles off the roofs of surrounding buildings, some of which were six storeys high. His serpentine tail whipped as he flexed his muscles, ready for flight and—

"Oops!"

Saix was snapped out of his gazing as someone fell against his side. A wicker basket crashed at his feet, the contents of one of its bottles splattering the toes of his new boots.

The crowd cheered. The dragon had taken off, knocking two chimneys over with his tail before disappearing into the brown clouds. Now everyone was free to loudly call out their bets as the hat, already full, continued to be passed from hand to hand.

"I'm so sorry," said the stitch-laced, long-haired ragdoll to Saix, hopping in place on the only leg she had. She dropped gracelessly to the ground and pulled out a kerchief. "It's hard to steer without a second leg. Here, let me ... "

But Saix stepped back, wordlessly turning down her offer to clean his boots. She didn't waste time insisting and began to collect her fallen goods as though she were in some great hurry to be anywhere but here. The day was not hers, however, as her swift movements undid the thread that attached her left arm to her shoulder. It fell off, its fingers wriggling in alarm at its sudden independence. Instead of blood, dried leaves spilled from the open stump. Rather than cry out in agony or horror, however, the ragdoll only released an anxious sigh.

"Oh, not now ... " she moaned, now short one leg _and_ one arm. Balancing precariously, she pulled a large needle from behind her hair and some thread from her pockets. "I have to see Jack before—"

"Oh, Sally! Saaaaally!" croaked of a voice above the bustle of the market.

The ragdoll froze, only her large eyes moving as she desperately looked for cover as the voice drew nearer.

"Sally, my sweet, where are you? Come, I'm not mad at you! Let's both go home for a nice cup of tea and I'll give you your leg back!" The tone was so tender and affectionate it could only be insincere. Indeed, when he received no response the caller's temper went from sweet to vicious in a heartbeat. "SA-LLY!! You wretched girl! If you don't come here at once I will detach your remaining limbs and substitute your stuffing with bugs! SALLY!!!"

The ragdoll looked at Saix beseechingly and went "Shh!" before crawling under the nearest table, whose tenant didn't notice her since he'd long since hurried over to join the betting crowd around the empty dragon pen. Her disconnected arm collected the leaves that had spilled from her body and dragged itself along using only one dainty finger, taking with it substantial amount of evidence that she'd even been here. No sooner had woman and body part disappeared when the crowd before Saix parted.

A wheelchair-bound man with a large head, tiny goggles and protruding mouth missing most of its teeth rolled into sight. Judging by his white coat and black gloves, he could only be the town's renowned Dr Finklestein. Garmjaw had spoken of this character before, with a great deal of admiration, as Garmjaw himself confessed to being something of a bookworm. With his vast knowledge, groundbreaking discoveries and influential creations, Finklestein was as much an eccentric as he was a genius.

Which explained why only he could go about the town with a woman's dismembered leg draped over his lap, and _still _receive nothing but adoration and respect from those around him.

"Good morning, Dr Finklestein!" hailed a group of umbrella-wielding vampires sucking on those blood-filled taffies.

"Would you like some fresh toad-meal, Dr Finklestein?" asked a goat-headed witch, offering a bowl of her homemade amphibian porridge.

"Make us more of those exploding balloons, Dr Finklestein!" begged three little masked demon children as they passed by in a walking bathtub filled with candy and torture toys.

"Later, later!" snapped Finklestein, waving everyone aside impatiently and running over the toes and claws of those who did not get out of his way fast enough. He held a cold compress to the side of his bald head and was seen to wince in pain every now and then, especially when he shouted. "I said _later_! Unless any of you have seen that wretched ingrate Sally, I will not hear it!"

Having been either too caught up in betting on the unlikely return of the dragon's naive riders, or in comparing the prices of Slugworth P. Silkworm's finest formal nooses with those of Charlotte Blackwiddow's, no one had noticed the wretched Sally's presence, so they all drifted back to the stalls to hunt for better bargains, leaving the doctor to flip open his cranium and scratch his exposed brain so hard it wobbled in his skull.

"As if I don't have enough work to deal with already! I know I saw her come this way," he muttered to himself, steering his motorized wheelchair in a complete circle as he searched the area. "How can she move so fast on only one leg? For her own good, I just might have to amputate the other leg when we get home. _That _will keep her in her place until I find a better alternative ... What's this?"

Having spotted the spilled basket at Saix's feet, Finklestein wheeled himself over with a hideous grin of triumph.

"You there!" he said to Saix, pointing for clarity's sake even though they were the only two in this empty corner of the market. "Did you see the girl who dropped this?"

Saix considered both sides of this crooked coin. In the past he would have ignored the question and dismissed the doctor: the Organization never remained in a world long enough to face the consequences of their actions. But this was his home now, so it would be unwise to snob one of its most prestigious inhabitants. Still, this was a very unpleasant-looking individual, and Saix's could feel the ragdoll's pleading eyes boring into him from her hiding place nearby.

"You are mistaken, doctor," he said calmly, kneeling to gather what could be salvaged. "I'm the one who dropped this. These are my purchases."

"Yours?" growled the doctor, steering himself even closer. He reached down and grabbed a handful of dried herbs. "What use do you have for all this deadly nightshade? This is premium brand, boy! I know my Sally's stock has run out and that she'd escaped from her room _again _to come out and buy some more! Tell me where she is."

"I have little time and patience for games myself," Saix said with a straight face, scraping together the scattered dried larvae and dropping them into the rawhide pouch. "I could have lied and steered you in a false direction, if just to end this confrontation, but that would have been disrespectful. In all honesty, I do not know the woman you are looking for." Which was perfectly honest: he'd only accidentally met her a few minutes ago. "Deadly nightshade is a very popular item on the market: I am sure I am not the only one who bought some today. I was told that, in small amounts, it makes for a fine seasoning. I plan to use it for my meal." He held up his bag of crispy lizards. "Beyond that limited knowledge, I'm afraid have little else to say, doctor."

"Hmm. Yes, I cannot disagree that a sprinkle of deadly nightshade certainly does liven up any dinner," Finklestein said, rubbing his weak chin as he studied Saix, who remained reticent even as he rose to his feet, holding the dainty basket. "You're not from around here."

"I am new to this town," Saix said, refusing to go into details.

"So you travel alone. A lonely werewolf ... I am always on the lookout for new material to study, and while I have already done extensive research on our local packs, foreign werewolves should provide me with valuable information. The mind of a lone werewolf must be filled with fresh thoughts, and his spurned heart with pent up emotions. Are you looking for accommodations? I can readily supply you with comfortable lodging. In return, you need only to voluntarily subject yourself to a few tests every now and then."

Saix seriously considered the possibility that Finklestein was in fact the reincarnation of IV, before reminding himself that IV had never been so merciful as to give his test subjects a choice in whether they wanted to be physically probed, lobotomized and dissected. In comparison, Finklestein was a gentleman. Were it not for the leg across the doctor's lap—which he continued to stroke in a somewhat lecherous fashion—Saix would have recanted his story from before and inform the mad yet reasonable scientist that the woman he sought was less than eight feet to the right.

"I have already taken up residency with another," Saix said, taking a few steps to the side, leading the scientist away from the table.

"Shame, shame. But I will not let you go so easily," said Finklestein, in a much better mood than before; even chuckling. "You can expect an invitation to tea at my laboratory sometime this week. No, this is no trap. I would never discredit my name by lowering myself to abduction and forced imprisonment. Oh no, no. Mine is a respected name in this town. We'll just have a little chat and you will be free to go whenever you please."

Saix was about to turn down that invitation as well, then thought it over.

"If it is information you want, then you wouldn't mind me bringing a ... friend along," he said. "He too is a werewolf without a pack, and has far more experience in the matter. And he is a big admirer of your work."

"A lone werewolf admirer? What a find! I thought I knew everyone in this town, but there are always a couple who somehow avoid my detection. All the better: he too will be a new spring of information. Two exiled werewolves in one day! Excellent! Then we will agree to meet at my place this Saturday, at exactly noon. It will be a much welcomed break from my current research. You need only ask for directions: everyone here knows where to find me. Very exciting and uplifting!" crowed Finklestein, so excited he almost dropped the leg, which reminded him of his earlier displeasure, which soured his mood all over again. "That stupid girl! Now, if you'll excuse me ... "

"Isa."

"If you'll excuse me, Isa, I still have a worthless creation to find and punish. SALLY!"

Finklestein rolled away, still clutching the leg he'd created for his creation and hollering her name as he pushed through a passing throng of black-capped gnomes who had to scatter to prevent being crushed.

When the coast was clear, the ragdoll crept out from under the table, her arm now reattached.

"Thank you for not telling. Isa, is it? I'm sorry for all that," she said, grabbing the edge of the table to pull herself up. She regained her balance and took back her basket with a shaky bow and smile. "You speak so eloquent for a werewolf. You must have many interesting stories to tell. I hope Dr Finklestein will allow me to sit in on your conversation this Saturday, though he will probably confine me to my room. He doesn't think I should be exposed to too much excitement."

"Sally!" Finklestein's voice could still be heard calling, though he was unknowingly moving farther and farther away from his target. "Saaaaaaaaallyyyyyy ... !!"

The ragdoll pouted, puffing her cheeks until the stitches on either side of her mouth almost burst.

"He's too overprotective. It's not good for his own health: all this searching wears him out. When I get home tonight I will make him his favourite peat soup with fresh maggots and frog's breath, and I won't lace it with deadly nightshade," she said brightly, checking her basket to see whether she had all the necessary ingredients for this unappetizing meal. "Oh no! Most of the maggots have escaped. I'll have to go back to the graveyard and collect more now. I hope there are still a few graves open ... "

"You will return to him voluntarily?" Saix asked, quite certain they had _both_ heard Finklestein threatening to dismember what remained of her.

"I'm his creation," she said as she rearranged the contents of her basket and covered it with a square piece of cloth. She spoke matter-of-factly, but understood his reaction to her indifferent acceptance. "I wish he would stop treating me like a child, but in a way I _am_ his child. He gave me a brain, and a heart, and a soul. Besides, the worst he ever does is lock me in my room for a few days. He's my maker: how can I leave him? Who would I be without him?"

" _... Trust me, and I will make you complete once more ... Now, you are nothing ... I will make you someone once again ... I will make you whole, Isa, if you come with me ... I will make you whole ... if you are with me ... "_

'Superior ... ?'

"Isa?"

Saix looked down at the worried hand that had been placed on his shoulder. The ragdoll quickly withdrew it.

"Are you alright?" she asked, eyeing a nearby fortune-teller's stall with some suspicion. "You looked as though you went into a trance."

Tempted to wriggle his finger in his ear to silence the painfully familiar voice, Saix shook his head. Unlike Garmjaw, whose persistence could try anyone's patience, the ragdoll knew when her company was no longer wanted.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Isa. I look forward to seeing you and meeting your friend on Saturday," she said, then suddenly beamed. "Oh! Here. A small thank you for helping me. This will indeed taste wonderful with your lizards."

Stuffing a handful of costly deadly nightshade in his bag, she gave him an uneven curtsy and hopped off, long hair flying all over the place as she haphazardly made her way up the boulevard, making her way towards the Brazen Bull pub. Her words, however, lingered.

"Where would we be without our makers ... ?" Saix asked himself.

The rose a collective gasp from the market as a great shadow swooped by overhead, followed by a collective hush as the two-headed dragon landed with a heavy thud atop his train-sized treasure chest.

"Who would I be without mine ... ?"

No longer interested in the ghoulish charm of the market, nor the fate of the dragon's riders, Saix slipped away through the alley the ragdoll had come from, barely aware of the disappointed groan the crowd that strongly suggested that the conned family had somehow survived their expensive flight after all.

* * *

What a bunch of freaks.

Anyone who could make Axel look like a normal person had to be abnormal beyond all rational expectations, and this world was filled with such deviant creatures.

"'Scuse me," said someone as they tapped Xaldin's shoulder. "I was wondering where you got that fright-tastic coat. My grandson has been asking for a Reaper coat of his own. Do they carry them in plus-size?"

Glaring sideways at the rotund woman-ish being, who was accompanied by another female who looked so thin she probably donated all of her food to her friend, Xaldin stiffly jerked his shoulder away from her poking, porky finger.

"No," he said tersely, and walked on.

"Why I never!" sputtered the first female. "You saw that, Agnes? These young hoodlums these days are so rude, going around with hoods on. In my days we were all proud to show our faces in public! Nowadays they hide their ugly mugs as if it's something to be ashamed of!"

"Inconceivable!" agreed skinny Agnes. "It upsets me so it's almost enough to make me want to eat an entire slice of bread."

Leaving that little titbit of nonsense behind him, Xaldin decided that he'd had enough of this mission and that it was high time he returned to the town gates and leave this forsaken world. He had finished his recon mission, which had been easier than usual since the town was too preoccupied with the marketplace. With so many weirdoes, both local and foreign, walking these streets, Xaldin did not stand out and had thus been able to carry out his mission in the open; with his hood on, of course. However, if one more damned reaper minion approached him with a job offer to join their ranks he'd run his lances through their hooded face.

A sudden whoosh of wind almost blew off his own hood as that boorish two-headed dragon flew by overhead; the sixth time this had happened since Xaldin's arrival. He didn't quite know why a dragon had suddenly decided to bury its infamous pride in order to allow itself to be used as a winged pony, but he confirmed earlier that the reptile was only here for the market and had no connections with the Heartless.

In fact, he had learned more about that dragon than the Heartless, who were the reason he'd come here in the first place. His mission hadn't yielded any new information. He had searched the town, from the highest towers to the deepest dungeons, travelling both on foot and through the Corridors to cover more ground, but whatever was causing the massive growth in Heartless numbers was not within the town walls. Oddly enough, there wasn't a single Heartless in here, which was also unusual since he distinctly recalled encountering small packs of the pests during every one of his past excursions to this world.

'With any luck, the Superior is having no better luck than I am,' he thought. 'It would be for the best if he did not fight anything any time soon.'

As he followed the spiralling street that lead the way down to Guillotine Plaza, he wondered whether this trip had done the Superior any good. He still didn't know what had possessed the other to come along on a whim; unless it had been just that, a whim. Xaldin had left their leader with some trepidation, feeling that it was against his duties and responsibilities to leave Xemnas' side when he was in such an unpredictable state, but at the same time he couldn't have been more happy to go: the Superior was usually quick to pick up on sneakiness, and it was pure dumb luck that this gift had seemingly abandoned the Superior in a time when the Organization was rife with good-natured but troublesome wiles.

Then again, perhaps an orgy of Heartless slayings was exactly what the Superior needed. For certain, Xaldin could do with a freestyle bout of violence right about now.

"Are you part of this afternoon's Deadliest Death's Dead theatre performance?" squeaked a willowy old crone as Xaldin passed where he sat reading today's aged newspaper outside a shack that served as a cafe. He held up a chisel and a slab of rock. 'Can I get your autograph?'

'When Kingdom Hearts is complete, and we've regained our hearts, I will suggest to Xemnas to use its remaining power to obliterate this world,' Xaldin promised himself, quickening his steps.

The calm that promise offered didn't last very long as he reached the end of the street to find himself at the back of a large crowd that had gathered on Guillotine Plaza. He'd overheard that the market on the boulevard would go on until midnight, so this gathering of freaks and frights on this side of town could not be shopping related. And if that insipid Mayor standing on an elevated platform in the middle of the Plaza was meant to be some form of entertainment Xaldin understood why the majority of the townspeople were so content to be in various states of death: with entertainment this lousy, death would certainly be a preferred alternative.

It turned out, however, that it was probably the Mayor himself who was wishing he were dead. Even with two faces, he looked unprepared to face the crowd, which, Xaldin noticed, looked rather discontent. In a world where torture was the preferred form of social bonding; suffering was considered a personal right; and someone could sue another in court for having not inflicted the desired amount of fear and mental scarring, it would take something of dire magnitude to actually generate any displeasure among its citizens.

"Everyone, everyone, please calm down!" begged the Mayor through a bullhorn, wiping his sweaty pale face every few seconds with a skull-spotted handkerchief. "I sanctioned this impromptu public meeting because, as your devoted and hard-working mayor, I understand your concerns. Rest assured, I'm sure Jack will come up with a plan! He and Dr Finklestein have been analyzing the problem together and—"

"Why don't _you_ do something about it?" called a skeleton-adorned tree in the back, as the crowd grumbled an accord.

"Me?" the Mayor asked, so stunned at the mere thought that it made his head spin several times. "B-But I'm just the elected official! I don't actually _do_ anything. "

Xaldin never stopped walking on his way towards the gates, yet he kept an ear on the proceedings, curious to hear what could have caused the citizens of Halloween Town to abandon their brewing cauldrons and cups of blood and moss-covered graves to come out here and witness democracy at its finest hour.

" ... cannot even go out in the countryside anymore!" said a moulting cockatrice, ruffling her fiery plumage. Although everyone avoided looking her directly in her death-dealing eyes, they nodded in agreement. "My chicks can no longer make the journey to Tombstone Town to visit their great-grandmother on their own! What is this world coming to if grandchildren cannot even visit their ailing grandparents to cheer them up with some good, clean family-friendly blood sport?"

"The road to St Carding's Gyre is overrun with the things! And I haven't heard from my cousins over in Shackles-upon-Necks for two months!" yelled someone who had to hold up his dismembered head above the crowd to be seen. "We've become captives in our own town! If something isn't done soon, we won't be able to attend this month's Witch Hunt in Salem Ville! I already reserved a broom and everything!"

"W-Well, we could always organize our own witch hunt here," said the Mayor, now mopping the sweat off both his faces. "Our own coven of lovely local ladies would surely put on an equally entertaining show."

"We can't hold the event here: all our stakes burnt down two years ago!"

Someone started wailing at the very thought of it while everyone else began conversing among each other, paying no attention to the man they had elected to rule over them even as he fiddled to adjust the volume on his battered bullhorn.

"And it isn't even as though they are killed!" growled the angriest of hobgoblin of them all, suddenly speaking up. She leapt up onto the nearby wall, drawing all eyes on her and her tacky wig. "I'm the proud mother of six dead children, all of whom have gone on to become terribly successful ghosts! But those _things _beyond our town, festering in our woods and clogging up our bogs and loitering in our wastelands, do not even have the decency to leave behind so much as the soul! If one of them gobbles you, you're gone for good!"

The town gates were right before him, but Xaldin turned back to the crowd, interested to hear them talking about what could only be the Heartless. Having found nothing worthy of publishing in a report, he decided to stay a while and glean what little valuable information he could get from the mostly paranoid rabble. He moved to the back of the crowd, where a few other loners hung back as well, content to just watch the Mayor squirm uncomfortably up on the platform.

"Order! Order!" he ordered feebly, now attempting to pass himself off as a judge since the title of mayor obviously didn't suit him. Stamping his tiny feet, he managed to recapture some of his audience's attention; the hobgoblins were not to be silenced but were generous enough to move to the side, where they began consulting a sinister-looking book. The Mayor took advantage of this to try and salvage what remained of his public image. His head spun, showing the crowd a smiling face. "My dear fellow frights! Surely you do not doubt our very own Pumpkin King and the great Dr Finklestein, do you?"

The crowd quieted down. Xaldin rolled his eyes. If these people were this easily manipulated it was no wonder they'd chosen this fool as their leader. What, had his main rival in the elections been a rock? This man's strategy would be crushed by the arguments of seven-year-old from the Bastion, and yet here he was, beaming as he tactlessly reeled the naive crowd back over onto his side.

"We all love Jack, don't we?" the Mayor asked.

The crowd nodded.

"And we all know Dr Finklestein is a genius, don't we?" cooed the Mayor.

The crowd nodded again.

"And don't we all want to just enjoy our splendid market, which is even better than last years, and find out who won our monthly Creep Contest? Think of all the fun we could be having instead!"

As the Organization's Master Manipulator, Xaldin physically ached as he watched this show of amateurish manipulation and its ridiculously effective influence over the crowd, who seemed to have forgotten everything at the mention of a damn popularity contest. Even the hobgoblins put away their black book, excitedly preening their wigs and adjusting their cloaks. This mindlessness insulted Xaldin so much he almost applauded when one fat ogress spoke up, refusing to be distracted.

"Trophies won't solve the situation!"

Waddling to the front, she climbed the first step leading up to the platform, almost causing the whole thing to collapse beneath her weight. The black cat that trotted after her shape shifted into the ugliest little girl Xaldin had ever seen; she really did take after her mother. Plopping down at her mother's feet, she played with her crooked pigtails as the ogress commandeered the crowd, completely ignoring the fussing Mayor behind her.

"My eldest lives just thirty miles from here and he sent a telegram to me via bat-mail," she said, waving a piece of paper as proof. "After receiving my previous letter in which I told him about our problem he took his girlfriend's broom and flew around a bit to see for himself just how widespread these things are. He says, and I quote: 'Mum, your pies—and _not_ Jezebel Beelzebub's—are the best and should have won first place in last year's cookery.' Also, he reports that these black shadow things have converged on this town alone. Something is drawing them here, and I know exactly what!"

The silence added a nice dramatic effect to this announcement. Even the Mayor was leaning forward, unwilling to miss a word she said, which was unnecessary since Xaldin could hear her perfectly fine over a hundred feet away. Even the two-headed sell-out dragon, flying by for the seventh time, had glanced down at the sound of her booming voice.

"Werewolves!" the ogress finally said after the theatrical pause. Before the close-knit group of lycans in the crowd could object, she clarified, "_Lone_ werewolves!"

Most everyone, including the werewolves, seemed to agree that this was a problem, though what sort of threat a lone werewolf could pose to a town of creatures who delighted in having their bones snapped and their skin burnt was beyond Xaldin.

"My dear, sweet Brickabrack—" she looked fondly at her spawn, who was gnawing on her own knuckles "—encountered two such miscreants last night! Of course, I do not imply that all lone werewolves are direct threats to our peaceful and awful communities, but did anyone notice these shadow things prior to the arrival of the rogue werewolf known as Garmjaw? I didn't! How can we know whether—"

"Oh, shut up, you stupid woman!"

All heads (including the one being held up by its detached owner) turned as a wheelchair bound man rolled into view, dragging with him an unhappy-looking living ragdoll who had to hop quickly on her one leg to keep up. The man—some sort of scientist—sneered at the ogress, who suddenly lost her nerve and ushered her child and herself back into the safety of the crowd. Listening closely, Xaldin heard one of the nearby vampires whisper the name "Finklestein!" behind his umbrella.

"What is this I hear about shadows and werewolves?" asked the scientist, presumably Finklestein. He slammed the armrest of his wheelchair with his free fist, making everyone jump. "What have I told you about hypothesizing so recklessly? The shadow creatures are part of _my_ research and until I have found an answer to the problem I will not have my efforts sullied by the mindless gossiping conjured up in your empty heads! There will be no more town meetings on this matter, am I understood? Go back to your shopping and scaring and leave the theorizing to science!"

Nods and apologies abound. Even the Mayor bowed apologetically for having offended this crippled genius. State affairs had never been Xaldin's strongest subject back in his apprentice days, but he was certain that this wasn't how it was meant to work: free speech was acceptable, but apparently the only reason this buffoon was Mayor was because someone had mistakenly written the word MAYOR on the ribbon he wore on his chest. Only Halloween Town could take something that was already as distorted as politics and put a new spin on it.

"Jack and I believe we've made a breakthrough!" Finklestein shouted up to the Mayor, who put on a smiling face at the news. "You are welcomed to come see the progress we've made. Just don't touch anything."

Suddenly feeling as tall as his exaggerated top hat, the Mayor strode down the steps with an air of importance, though he was still sweating profusely. Along with the scientist and the unwilling ragdoll, he left the Plaza. With no one to complain to, the crowd grew bored and slowly began drifting off to whatever hole or dung pile they'd crawled out of.

Well, that had been time not-well spent.

Sighing, Xaldin started to turn back towards the gates when, from across the Plaza, through the thinning crowd, he happened to lock eyes with a familiar yellow pair.

There, half-hidden in the shadows between a crumbling wall and crumbling building, was Saix, returning Xaldin's surprised stare with one of his own. After days of _not_ looking for their missing and wayward Berserker, Xaldin had accidentally found him.

If they had both been on the Plaza this entire time, why hadn't they sensed each other sooner? Xaldin's excuse was that Saix's aura had decreased significantly since he last saw him. Even now, looking at the Diviner, Xaldin could barely make out a weak sliver of darkness surrounding Saix. On the other hand, Xaldin's was as strong as ever, and should have functioned as a beacon to any other Nobody, yet he had avoided Saix's detection up until now. How could it be that Saix, who had once tracked him down across three hundred miles of open plains and dense jungle in the Pride Lands, had failed to notice him standing less than one hundred feet away?

And why in the name of Kingdom Hearts had Saix cut his hair?

Curious to get the answers to these questions (honestly, the issue of the haircut needed thorough explanation), Xaldin gave the other an authoritative look and jerked his head in the direction of the towering town gates, which would offer them more privacy than the now empty Plaza did. Saix didn't react immediately. Officially, since he had been stripped of his membership, Saix was free to ignore his former superiors' commands, though it was still unclear whether he was even aware of this demotion. However, either out of ignorance or freewill, the Diviner obeyed the silent order and left the safety of the shadows to cross the Plaza.

Already outside the gates, Xaldin leaned against the wall and waited, arms crossed in contemplation as his mind quickly put together a game plan to tackle this unexpected breakthrough. No, masterminding and manipulation wouldn't work now. Saix knew his tricks well enough to recognize when they were being used against him, and the risk of the Berserker disappearing on them again was too great. Though it went against his principles, Xaldin had no choice but to play this one openly and honestly.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel just a few feet away. When Xaldin did not react Saix remained silent, like any good subordinate should be before their superior, and patiently waited until Xaldin decided to break the silence.

Still not speaking, Xaldin raised his head and considered the other, now standing in broad daylight. It was good to see that Saix wasn't struggling to survive out here: he looked well-fed and well-groomed (but the hair! It didn't necessarily look horrible, but ... Xaldin would take a lance to the eye socket of anyone who were to so much as suggest cutting off his dreads: he couldn't imagine Saix being this lenient when it came to his own trademark mane). Gone was the standard Organization coat; instead, Saix now wore a three-piece black-and-teal suit beneath a cloak held together by silver clasps. Hanging from his belt was what looked like a full money pouch and whatever he was carrying in that bag had a delicious aroma to it.

Saix's exile was meant to be _punishment_, right?

But he had been punished; suffering had eaten away at the Diviner. Perhaps Saix was unaware of this, for nothing else could explain his open display of inferiority as he couldn't even bring himself to meet Xaldin's eyes again.

"I am not about to have a conversation with the side of your head," Xaldin said.

"My apologies, sir. I have not been myself for some time," Saix said, though he did turn to face Xaldin.

This felt so very wrong. Saix had always been polite and formal when addressing his superiors, but that had never made him any less frightening. Now, however, he sounded ... just polite and formal. The underlying threat in his voice which had served as a reminder of his suppressed rage was gone. This Saix didn't sound as though he was secretly envisioning emasculating you while digging his claws into your eardrums. Xaldin actually found himself wishing he were talking to _that_ Saix: at least he knew how to deal with that Saix. This Saix was mystery to him.

"You are not as surprised as before," he said, wondering to himself how wise an idea it would be to test just how much of the old Saix was left by flicking the tip of the Diviner's ear (as Demyx had once unwittingly discovered by bad luck, Saix didn't like that very much).

"I am surprised it took the Organization this long to find me," Saix said. "I hope this does not reflect disorganization within our ... _your _ranks. If you are here on direct order I will not fight you, III."

This successfully curtailed Xaldin's annoy-Saix-until-he-becomes-himself-again tactics.

"What are you talking about?"

"Of the remaining members, you're the most qualified for this sort of thing." A trace of acceptance tugged at one corner of the Diviner's mouth. Xaldin thought he looked ... relieved, which made Saix's next statement all the more morbid. "You've come to execute me, haven't you?"

Admittedly, that was standard Organization procedure, but those targeted for assassination weren't supposed to accept this sentence so gratefully. Their very existence—whatever part of it qualified as existence, anyway—rested wholly on survival; they lived in order to regain their hearts and live again. For a Nobody, who was already nothing, to smile longingly at the thought of death and its eternal nothingness ...

"No such order has been issued," Xaldin said as though the entire idea was sheer ludicrous. "I am only here on recon. It is purely coincidence that I spotted you."

While many would give an arm and a leg in exchange for clemency, Saix took the news that he wouldn't be sliced and diced on this very spot in moderation: he sighed, not relieved.

"I see."

Further talks were briefly interrupted by a tiny procession of walking jack-o'-lanterns that came marching through the gates to the beat of the lead jack-o'-lantern drumming the town's anthem on its hard shell. Using this random distraction as a chance to contemplate the Berserker while Saix watched the demonic produce pass on by (another recent development: Saix had never been this easily distracted), Xaldin noted that Saix was more relaxed than calm; more curious than suspicious; more soft-spoken than reticent. And still, this did not make him any less dangerous, for something new had manifested itself in him. The darkness around him was failing, but within him was a force that had only begun to brew, though Xaldin could not tell what. This destructive was so at odds with this new, 'peaceful' Saix it begged the question whether Saix even knew the exact nature and magnitude of what resided in that empty cavity in his chest.

"Why here?" Xaldin asked when the last possessed pumpkin rolled off downhill.

"Pardon?"

"Of all the worlds we've discovered, why did you choose to come to this one?"

"Instincts, I suppose," Saix shrugged.

For some reason, seeing the Diviner give a nonchalant response irked Xaldin. Saix didn't give nonchalant responses: if Saix considered a question beneath him he'd either say so openly and honestly, or he'd say nothing at all. The Saix Xaldin knew did not waste his time and breath on careless answers.

"Have you been here all this time?" Xaldin then asked.

"As you may have noticed, the darkness' hold on me, and mine on it, has lessened considerably. The simple task of opening a Corridor is no longer so simple for me. It is too dangerous to risk travelling," Saix said.

Which wasn't a nonchalant answer, but it sure was a lengthy one. Likewise, Saix was not prone to giving long answers when a simple yes or no would do the trick.

Somehow, Xaldin found himself growing more and more annoyed.

" ... I don't care for your hair," he said, as if that were the cause for his irritation. Well, perhaps it was a little. "It reminds me of Zexion's."

Surprised, Saix absently swept a hand through it, though with his hair being so short now he could no longer do that little over-the-shoulder flip that Axel often parodied behind the Diviner's back.

"It is a small sacrifice to pay. Actually, it paid me well," Saix said, glancing down at the heavy money pouch attached to his belt. "My apologies, though, if it brings up unwanted memories ... What? Does it really offend you that much?"

There was nothing there. Those yellow eyes, which once had the stopping power to put an end to Xigbar's overblown storytelling simply by narrowing, were almost completely devoid of their former fierceness. The Diviner's voice, which had never been loud unless roaring in battle, was softer and more detached; the type of tone one used when wanting to be both polite yet impersonal when talking to a complete stranger. Having fought alongside Saix during so many missions, and having even helped the victorious but badly injured Berserker limp back to the headquarters at least half a dozen times, Xaldin felt slighted.

"Cut hair can always grow back to its former glory, but honour is not so easily regained," Xaldin said, sharply looking away. "You may no longer be one of us, but I never thought I'd ever look upon the great Luna Diviner and hardly recognize him. Your face is unmistakable, but this new attitude does not suit you. Perhaps the Superior was right to excommunicate you: you have grown weak."

_At last_, a flash in those eyes.

"I have always admired you powers of perception, III," Saix said, visibly exercising control over himself, "and clearly they have not waned, but I have not so much as changed as I have adapted to the best of my abilities. Having lost the dark powers I was taught to depend on so heavily, I had to accept whatever alternative nature supplied me."

"What are you talking about?"

"It has returned to me, III," Saix said with a growl, tugging agitatedly at his gloves. "The savagery that you and II beat out of me when you first found me long ago. It was a state I wished never to revert to again, but now it is my only defence."

It only took Xaldin a second to realize what Saix meant, but it took a while longer for it to sink in. Stunned, he grabbed the other by the arm.

"A werewolf?" he asked in disbelief, speaking softly as though the very word were cursed. "You've actually regained your status as a werewolf?"

"I don't know what that makes me," Saix said, no longer knowing where to look.

Once the shock wore off, concern began to set in as Xaldin recalled the scene on the Plaza earlier. Saix must have witnessed it himself, coming to think of it.

"If the people here decide that you qualify as a solitary werewolf enough than that will make you vulnerable to their scorn," Xaldin said, pulling Saix away from the gates and blocking him from view with his own body. "If your Nobody powers have indeed faded you should push off until this political farce has died down. It might be too dangerous for you to walk these streets alone."

Releasing a frustrated snarl, Saix roughly yanked his arm free and took several steps back.

"What I do no longer concerns you, III!" he snapped, adjusting his cloak. "If you are not here to kill me than please complete your recon mission and return to where your opinions are still valid. If my punishment is to live and regret the mistakes I've made, then so be it, but it is the gravest of insults to hear my battle prowess—possibly the only thing I have left to be proud of—questioned. I am neither helpless, nor am I alone in this world, so you need not spare me these empty concerns, III."

"What, you've already found an ally?" Xaldin called after Saix, who was on the verge of turning away to enter the town again. "Do not turn your back on your superior, Saix!"

That stopped the other dead in his tracks, and when Saix looked over his shoulder it was the coldest, most hateful look Xaldin had ever received from him.

"You are not my superior, _Xaldin_."

Hearing Saix actually say his name struck Xaldin dumb for a few crucial seconds. During those seconds, he was aware of the Corridor that had suddenly blossomed open behind Saix. Before he could even advise Saix to move out of the way, someone stepped out, unaware that they now had an angry Berserker right in the middle of their path.

"I do not appreciate being made to wait, Xal—!"

The voice had an immediate effect on Saix, who spun around just in time to meet the Superior eye-to-eye before he unknowingly walked straight into him.

If the others were having better luck than Xaldin, the God of the Dead should have fished out their two traitorous ex-comrades by now; meanwhile, it would appear that Fate had taken it upon herself to 'assist' Xaldin in a task he had unknowingly been saddled with. And if this was Fate's idea of helping out, her wrath must indeed be a terrible thing to witness.

* * *

" ... You bleeding _idiots_," was all Vexen could say once Luxord finished explaining.

"Aw, that's a little harsh, ain't—"

"Silence!"

Demyx shrank back into the lounge's couch next to Luxord, trying to conceal himself behind the Gambler, who stared passively at Vexen's trembling finger that had aimed itself at Demyx. Dropping his hand, Vexen started to pace erratically, rubbing the sides of his head and talking to himself as if he'd skipped the part of nervous breakdown and leapt straight into insanity.

"A game ... these fools treat this like some game!" he said, throwing his hands up into the air, up at Kingdom Hearts. "Setting up Xemnas and—! Great Heart of hearts!! What has the Organization become?! What have these neophytes reduced all my hard work to?! No respect for their superiors! No respect for science! I knew it! I told Xemnas we shouldn't have taken on more, and now ... those ... those ... troglodytes!"

"Is that a dinosaur?" Demyx asked softly.

"Now, now, sir," Luxord said, waving away the Nocturne and rising to take Vexen by the shoulders in a friendly manner. "It is unsavoury to hear such language from a distinguished researcher like yourself. Have I not always thought nothing but the best of you? Much to my regret, I do not share a vast academic knowledge like yourself, but did we not have many pleasant and interesting talks in the past? I understand that this might be a bit upsetting, coming back from the dead, but can we not discuss this in a manner befitting of gentlemen. We need not even include Demyx in our conversation."

"Hey!"

Slapping away Luxord's hands, Vexen straightened the collar of his coat and untwisted his sneering features. He took a seat, lowering himself into an armchair with slow control, and entwined his fingers. Once completely rational again, he gave an authoritative nod.

"Very well," he said, barely able to unclench his teeth. "I suppose the sooner this has been dealt with, the sooner I can return to my peace."

"Huh? What do you—mph!"

"What do you mean?" Luxord asked, keeping a firm hand over Demyx's mouth despite the other's best attempts to pull free. "Are you under contract?"

"Did you think I could just walk back into this life and stay?" Vexen said, raising his chin slightly. "Dead is dead, X. I wasn't even who you were looking for—and may I add, it is insulting to think that you'd sooner seek out those two miscreant snakes to aid you in your plans and not even consider me. Had it not been for the misguided sentiments of _that_," he pointed to Demyx, "which compelled him to run up and hug me, and by doing so unwittingly reconnect me with the world of the living, I would have simply thrown me back in. Now, I can't go back to my peaceful slumber until I have finished unfinished business. In short: sort this mess out or I will make your lives not worth living."

When alive, an angry Vexen had been about as threatening as a drowned kitten.

Back from the dead, however ... Nope, he still wasn't very threatening, but at least he had some credentials for having done time in literally the most hellish prison ever.

"If all goes according to plan, we will get right to it once the rest return," Luxord said.

Vexen remained unoptimistic.

"You know what they say about the best laid schemes of mice and men," he said.

"Er ... they couldn't put Humpty together again?"

"IX, aren't there windows for you to clean?"

Chastised, Demyx got to his feet and shuffled off to a corner, muttering, "Geez, what was wrong with a little group participation?"

"I have something that will put you in a much better mood, Vexen," Luxord said jovially as he conjured up stacks of small, bamboo tiles. "While we wait, a game to pass the time. I do recall you were very partial to mah-jong, and I happen to have with me a brand new set of tiles I recently won off an imperial soldier in the Land of the Dragons."

No longer sulking quite as much as before, Vexen sat up with an interested look.

"Well, it's about time you offered me some intellectual refreshments," he said as Luxord set up the game.

* * *

Saix was in his arms.

Saix, who had grabbed onto him for balance after they'd literally bumped into each other, was now staring up at him with wide yellow eyes.

Saix, who he had not seen in what felt like forever, was right there, trapped against his chest.

Saix, who ... had cut his hair.

"_Forget the hair,"_ the agitated Voice hissed. _"Forget him!"_

... How could Saix cut his hair?

"_Xehanort, listen to me! Do not let him ensnare you again!"_

... But Saix's hair was never meant to be worn this short.

"_Kingdom Hearts will give you all the power you'll ever need."_

Blinking, Xemnas dropped his arms and drew himself to his full height. No longer held, Saix stepped back. Xemnas could not look away from the Diviner; the Diviner could not look Xemnas in the eyes.

"Superior—" Xaldin, being the first to find his voice, started to reason, but Xemnas would not have it.

It was too difficult. He had made his choice, but being confronted with the consequences was still too raw an experience. He would not change his mind, though. He could not. Kingdom Hearts was too important to give up now.

"Our work here is done," Xemnas said, speaking as though Xaldin and he were the only two there. He held out a palm, ready to reopen the Corridor.

"_So true! He's nothing but a traitor. A deserter."_

Whatever he was, it was easier to pretend that he wasn't; that he was not even there.

But the sudden appearance of Saix had caused the Voice to go on the high defensive. It felt as though it was physically battering its displeasure against Xemnas' mind, causing a sudden and very painful throb to develop left of Xemnas' temple as it shrieked, sounding panicked.

"_You're lying to me! I can see him, Xehanort! I can see him so vividly in your mind! You're faltering! Prove your strength! He no longer matters to us. Say it, Xehanort!"_

Too loud ... so much pain ... where was the silence?

'He's no longer ... '

"_Don't stop there! He is a traitor! Are you stupid enough to trust traitors? Are you as stupid as your old mentor?! You don't need him! You need me! Say it to me, Xehanort!"_

Too much. Too chaotic. He could not handle all this now.

"_Why can't you say it?! Why can't you prove yourself to me, Xehanort?! Say it if you believe it!"_

'He ... '

Why wouldn't it end?

"_SAY IT! SAY IT! SAY IT! SAY IT! SAY—!"_

And then the world fell into the sweetest silence Xemnas had ever heard.

Raising his hands to touch his sore temple, he was surprised to find that another pair had beaten him to it. Softly cradling the sides of Xemnas' head with cool fingertips, Saix had his eyes clothes, rapidly muttering something beneath his breath as the soreness lessened and then vanished entirely.

Xemnas suddenly realized that Saix's aura had all but faded entirely. Despite having little energy for himself, Saix had stepped up and put Xemnas' needs before his ... hadn't he? A show of loyalty ? The fingers pulled away. Having done as much as his remaining powers would allow, Saix released Xemnas and took a few unsteady steps back, looking pale and faint as he rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again they were blood-shot.

"Superior, I ... I'm ... " His eyes rolled back into his head and he slowly pitched forward.

"Saix!" Xaldin called out, but there came no reaction.

Xemnas was moving without any thought or rationale, one arm out to catch the Diviner before he hit the ground.

" _... either he falls ... or you will ... "_ the Voice, sounding extremely weak and in pain, grumbled before retreating to lick its wounds.

Still, it was enough to make Xemnas hesitate, and in that brief pause his view was blocked when someone else rushed past him, catching Saix against his chest and quickly lowering the unresponsive Nobody to the ground.

"Isa! Isa! What have they done to you?"

Xemnas' fists clenched. _That_ name ... Who was this intruder, and who was he to use the name Xemnas himself had rearranged? Who was he to come between Xemnas and his follower?

The stranger, getting no immediate response from Saix, turned around to leer at Xemnas. He was a werewolf, marked with the same scar as Saix. Male, tall, well-built and not that well maintained, though it appeared he had made recent attempts to groom himself. While his eyes spoke volumes of the pain he wished to inflict on whoever was responsible for Saix's condition, his hands continued to cradle the Diviner with a gentleness that set off alarms in Xemnas' head.

Indeed, when studied side by side, the two almost looked identical, down to the same style cut of their blue—_This_ was the vile creature behind the desecration of Saix's hair!

"Those coats ... You're the ones, aren't you?" the werewolf snapped, baring his fangs at Xemnas, moving in so close they were almost chest-to-chest. "Are you not yet satisfied with what you've done to him? Why do you continue to torment him?"

Not about to degrade himself by answering to someone so far beneath him on every ladder, Xemnas allowed Xaldin to do that for him. The werewolf's angry words were silenced by the pointy tip of a lance against the side of his neck. The softest of prods was enough to break the skin, which convinced him to move away from Xemnas as Xaldin moved to stand between the two of them.

"Who are you to get involved in our affairs?" Xaldin demanded.

The werewolf considered Xaldin, then the lance held against his neck, then the five other lances floating above them, their blades aimed at him.

"I would ask you the same thing," he said, testing Xaldin's range by tilting his head to the side. A second lance appeared on his other side, hovering on its own to press its tip against the skin beneath his jaw, trapping him. "Isa is no longer one of yours. You have no more business with him."

"You did not answer my question," Xaldin said, twisting his wrist to draw blood.

"Garmjaw Blackback VI," said the werewolf proudly, defiantly refusing to flinch at the wound. Even though it was Xaldin who was holding him at lance-point, he looked over to Xemnas and a sense of deep mutual loathing was established. He growled. "And you?"

"Mind your manners. Who we are does not matter," Xaldin answered, levelling another lance at the mongrel's chest, right over his heart. "You won't know anything soon enough."

"Stop this!"

Having made a miraculously quick recovery and already on his feet, Saix grabbed the lance before it could deal the fatal blow. The weapon tugged and jerked in his grip, refusing to be moved.

"Do not get in the way," Xaldin warned.

"He is no enemy of yours," Saix said to Xaldin, refusing to let go. "You claimed to fear for my safety in this town, and yet you would strike down my only ally?"

Ally? Saix would confront them in order to protect ... _this_? Then what of before, when he had driven away the Voice? Had that not been ... With whom did the Diviner's allegiance ultimately lie?

"Do not try to reason with them, Isa," the werewolf said, one hand on Saix's side, never taking his eyes off the blades aimed at him. "If it is a fight they want—!"

The gate creaked and groaned but managed to withstand the force of the werewolf's body weight slamming against it. Saix tried to intervene, but Xaldin grabbed him, barring his way with the shaft of a lance.

Xemnas tightened his fingers around the werewolf's throat, threatening to rip it out and finally silence the proud voice that continued to use _that_ name. Even gasping for air, the beast had the gall to glare up at him in defiance. He was not trying to escape, as though confident no effort would be needed to outwit Xemnas.

"Superior, don't—"

"Eliminate him."

"What?"

Looking away from the werewolf (staring at him any longer would well incite Xemnas to just murder him then and there), Xemnas made a flicking motion with his wrist. Xaldin accordingly released Saix. Another nod from Xemnas and the Lancer, with a confused frown, pressed one of his lances into Saix's hand. Xemnas stepped aside, leaving the werewolf to slump to the ground, coughing and hacking as he rubbed his bruised throat and neck.

"Eliminate him," Xemnas repeated. "Kill him, prove yourself to me, and you will be reinstated in the Organization. Refuse, and there will be consequences for the both of you.

"_Don't give him the chance to—!"_

'Shut up,' Xemnas growled at the Voice, and it cowered and obeyed.

Saix looked between Xemnas and the werewolf, then he looked to Xaldin, who hid his own surprise well. Saix's eyes met his again, and it disturbed Xemnas to see the conflict in their depths. Doubt. Saix was doubting his words; his orders.

" ... I can't."

Saix tossed the spear back to Xaldin, who caught it, slack-jawed.

"Forgive me, Superior," Saix said, lowering himself onto one knee, palms flat on the ground, and bowing his head, "but by your previous orders, I am no longer yours to command. I am no longer part of the Organization, nor will I ever be again. It is a choice I made in the past, and I will live with the consequences."

Disobeyed. Publicly rejected in the presence of not just one of his other followers, but before that damned werewolf as well. Xemnas had faced some opposition in the past, but never had felt like such a devastating blow to his pride and authority.

"_I told you,"_ said the Voice gleefully. _"Traitors will always be traitors."_

When Xemnas said and did nothing Saix appeared to realize the gravity of his decision.

"Superior, you must understand—"

He wasn't thinking. He didn't know what to blame his actions on, but for now Xemnas did not regret striking the Diviner. Saix's head snapped back, and he staggered, but remained on his feet, head turned away in silence and disgrace.

"You bastard!" the werewolf roared.

Saix remained silent and calm.

"I have no use for an ingrate dog who would bite the very hand that fed it," Xemnas said coldly. He turned his back to the Diviner and said to Xaldin. "Our mission here is done. Clearly, there is _nothing_ here that is worth our while."

Unable to do anything else, Xaldin opened a Corridor and went on ahead. Before he stepped through, Xemnas glanced back. The werewolf had gotten to his feet and was at Saix's side, standing so close he could speak softly to the Diviner without his words carrying. Once more, he squarely placed a hand on Saix's hip while the other examined the discoloured bruise on the side of Saix's face. Despite the other's overbearing fretting, Saix was not reacting to him. The yellow eyes remained downcast, features frozen in shamed disbelief.

Before he could even begin immensely regretting his words and actions, Xemnas stepped into the Corridor, abandoning his once loyal follower to the company of his fellow lowlife.

* * *

Xaldin stepped out of the Corridor and into the lounge, only to throw up his hands to shield his eyes from the blinding flash that lit up the entire room. Once the dots stopped dancing before his eyes and depth perception returned to him, he found himself face to face with Xigbar.

"Oh, it's just you," Xigbar said, grinning. He still stank of brimstone, sulphur and alcohol. "Gave us a bit of a start when the Corridor suddenly opened up without warning. Isn't the Superior supposed to be with you? Luxord said he was."

"He was," Xaldin said grumpily, dropping down on a couch, biting worryingly on the tip of his gloved thumb. "He's gone off on his own."

Not picking up on Xaldin's aggravated state, Xigbar balanced himself on the armrest next to shaken Lancer.

"Great! The longer he's out of the Castle, the lesser the chance of him finding out what we did. I whisked them away before you could see them, but it worked: we got Marluxia and Larxene!"

Replaying what had happened at the gates over and over in his head, Xaldin shrugged.

"Outstanding. Treat yourself to some ice cream."

"Well, aren't you just the radiant ray of sunshine in this cold, dark world," Xigbar snorted, hunkering down on the table directly in front of Xaldin. "Spill it. What went wrong now?"

You won't be in a much better news once you hear what happened," Xaldin said.

"Am all ears."

"BLEIG, YOU BRAINLESS BUFFOON! GET US OFF THIS ROOF IMMEDIATELY!"

"Whoops. I'll be all ears once we find the rest," Xigbar said, hopping off the table. "Kinda sent them off in a hurry, so I'm hoping they didn't end up someplace dangerous."

"IT'S REALLY DANGEROUS OUT HERE!"

" ... Was that Vexen?" Xaldin asked, though there was only one person who could so easily produce a ringing in his ear.

"Yeeeeaah," Xigbar said, leaning out the window the search the roofs and towers for the missing group. "Funny story, that. And you look like you could use a good laugh."

It was going to take more than a humorous anecdote to lighten the dark tidings Xaldin had to share with the others. At least Marluxia and Larxene, ever the ones to enjoy the personal sufferings of others, would probably have a good laugh over it.

Axel, on the other hand, was going to incinerate something.

Personally, Xaldin blamed the boy for this mess. If anyone was going to be sent out to bring back their enraged leader, Xaldin was ready to nominate Roxas.

* * *

" ... don't have to worry about draughts, and it is but a five minute's walk away from the butcher's on Mausoleum Lane, meaning we can have fresh meat every morning. Best of all, it has a large skylight, so we can view the moon every night from now on without having to go out. Then again, there is a very interesting bookstore not far from here that I have been meaning to visit. Since it is still early, we could check it out and get something to eat on the way back: those barbecued lizards were delicious, but hardly filling."

Saix wasn't looking, and barely listening, to Garmjaw, who was moving about the comfortable loft he had found them earlier in the day. His laconic behaviour had not gone unnoticed, but Garmjaw was attempting to talk him out of it by showing him around their new home. When he realized his efforts were not having the desired effects, he sighed and joined Saix in the centre of the floor.

"It's over," Garmjaw said, touching heads in an effort to draw Saix's full attention. "We survived it, and now we do not have to worry about your former pack mates returning. They made that quite clear."

"He hit me," Saix said softly. Even though it had occurred over an hour ago, every second that passed by only seemed to increase the pain, reminding Saix of the uncharacteristic burst of outrage the Superior had directed at him. "I ... I was his most loyal ... Why did he hit me?"

"He hit me as well, and the other one stabbed me," Garmjaw said, testing whether the cut on his neck had healed yet. "They're a violent bunch."

"But I was his most loyal!" Saix repeated, sounding almost panicked. It confounded him to the point of insanity. The Superior had never even raised his voice to the likes of XI and XII, yet he had physically struck him, Saix, who up until then had been nothing but devoted to him and his cause. "Why would he ... ? Something's gone badly wrong ... What have I done?"

"Stop that!" Garmjaw snapped. "Don't do that! Do _not_ blame yourself for what happened! All you did was stand up for yourself. He only has himself to blame, and he knows it. Expecting you to obey orders after exiling you ... I already held this so-called Superior in very low regards, and meeting him proved that I was right to expect so little from someone who treated you so poorly. He is a power-hungry fool!"

"Don't call him that," Saix said, his claws twitching.

"Would that I were stronger," Garmjaw went on, still seething as his carved grooves into the wooden window with his own claws. "I could have killed him for talking down to you like that! Striking you as though you were a slave! That bastard—"

Saix grabbed him by the collar, growling.

"I said, don't call him that."

"Stop defending him!" Garmjaw said when Saix released him, returning to look out the window of the fifth storey loft. "I have seen his type before, and you are very lucky for people like him will chase one thing and one thing alone: power. And it almost always leads to their downfall, and then they drag others down with them. Had you continued to follow him, he would have lead you straight into an early grave."

"No, he would have given me my ... "

But what about the others? What about IV, and V, and VI? They were dead. They died pursuing the dream of regaining their hearts. They died ... following the Superior ...

Arms encircled him from behind. Though this was far more bodily contact than Saix was used to, he did not attempt to extract himself. He had grown used to Garmjaw's tendency to touch, and, admittedly, could find some relieve in being held this way. It lessened the overwhelming feeling of loneliness he'd been experiencing since that horrible moment at the gates.

"I can understand how conflicted you feel, Isa," Garmjaw said solemnly, staring straight ahead, out the window, as he rested his chin on Saix's shoulder. "When I was forced out of my pack I struggled to come to terms with being on my own. I did not know what to think, how to feel. I hated them so deeply for what they'd done to me, and yet I am sure that, had they come after me and offered me a second chance, I would have jumped at the occasion. I hated them because I had loved them so much. But I had been blinded, you see. It would take years for me to realize that while the pack had been the world to me, to them I'd been just another foot soldier."

A family of bats returned to their home in rafters of the building opposite theirs, carrying with them bags of goods they had purchased from the market. Chattering excitedly, they filed inside, the children first, followed by the parents. The father bat, wearing a brand new wide-brimmed hat, put his winged arm around the mother as they waddled out of sight.

"Fried bat rice! Come get your fried bat rice!" someone began hollering from the ground floor of the same building, having just opened their little snack shop. "Freshly caught and plucked! A crispy treat for tonight's supper!"

"Was that all I was then?" Saix asked, leaning back against Garmjaw. "An expendable soldier?"

"I don't know what your ex-leader expected from you, other than flawed devotion. He believed that he needed only to snap his fingers and you'd jump to his side, like a well-trained _dog_—I cannot believe he called you that!"

Saix remained silent for a long time. Garmjaw did not insist on talking, content to just stand there, resting his head against Saix's and making a calming rumbling sound at the back of his throat, though it might have been that he did so to calm himself, not Saix.

" ... What am I to you, Garmjaw?" Saix asked, causing the other to stir.

"Honestly?"

"The truth cannot hurt anymore than I already have today," Saix said brusquely, though he shivered out of his reverie when warm air blew over the sensitive tip of his ear.

Garmjaw hesitated a great deal, uncertain whether to answer the question. Stalling, he turned Saix around and looked at him hard, which seemed to give him the courage he needed.

"Since you've asked ... you're everything to me."

That wasn't the sort of answer Saix had expected.

"Is that not overtly dramatic?" he asked sceptically.

The question wounded the other's confidence, but now that he had said it, Garmjaw could not allow himself to retract it.

"I cannot put it any simpler," he said, stroking his knuckles lightly over the bruise. "But when your ex-leader gave you the choice to kill me, I would not have objected if you had agreed, because while life before you was miserable, life after you would have been impossible."

He meant something to this person; to someone who had a heart ... It felt different than being a nobody.

Saix felt a stir of something within him. Garmjaw tentatively touched lips, and the sensation intensified. Instinctively, Saix turned towards the inquisitive mouth, silently encouraging Garmjaw to continue to test his limits.

"I think ... I understand your ex-leader's unwillingness to let you go ... " Garmjaw said, eyes darkened as he stared at Saix, gripped by the same primitive urge.

That's right ... the Superior had kissed him as well. And he had forcibly rejected him. And now he was submitting to Garmjaw's kisses ... Why? Saix's rational side was appalled by this submissive behaviour, but his wilder side, the side that had been growing in power since he first accepted his rediscovered nature, grew more and more excited.

"Shall we just stay in tonight?" Garmjaw asked.

The beast within him was quick to agree, but even as he offered his neck Saix could only think of the only other time he'd been kissed like this, and in deepened the guilt of betrayal in his chest. To want this, yet reject the Superior ... Is this what he truly wanted? Had he chosen carnal desires over the very person who had ridded him of said bestial wants; who had given him a sense of identity and honour and pride.

... only to strip him of everything and call him a dog.

Turning his head away as he allowed himself to be seduced by the only person he had left, in this world and any other, Saix stared out at the dark orange skies.

'It could have been different ... Superior ... why did you hit me?'

A large shadow briefly blocked out the dying rays of sunlight. Gripping his giant treasure chest brimming with today's earnings, the two-headed dragon soared off into the darkening skies, throwing back his tiara-topped head and rubbing his jewel-clawed hands as he greedily laughed just thinking of his next conquest.

Tbc ...

* * *

**A/N:** **(Warning: here follows perhaps my most snarkiest A/N yet. I apologize in advance.)**

To anyone who, while reading this chapter (particularly the marketplace scene), wondered "Wow, elaborate description much?", allow me to reason: bite me. I've had a_ very_ bad, _very_ stressful past three weeks, which were first spent ploughing through three exams, seven (SEVEN!) essays and two presentations, almost all of which were on either Shakespeare, 19th Century English Literature or poetry, so I still got literature on the brain, which plays out in my writing. And then, on top of that, my entire family (myself, my dad, my sister, my sister's boyfriend, my sister's three little kids; apparently, my mom's immune to everything but death and spree-shopping-fever) have been struck down by your friendly neighbourhood swine flu, so I wrote this chapter in a semi-lucid state and could only write bits and pieces in between very, very long naps and spells of fever and nausea. On top of _that_, the DBSK lawsuit has taken an ugly turn for the oh-my-god-get-me-my-gun-this-means-war! All in all, I was _not_ in a good mood when I wrote this (coincidentally, I'm still ill, and the lawsuit controversy is still ongoing, so I'm still not in a good mood) so please, no "Oh, this chapter's too wordy" or "Who do you think you are, JK Rowling?" comments because, quite frankly, I'm too fucking tired to defend this chapter any more than I already have.

And if it's not as funny as you would have like, well, you can imagine that I'm not really in a humorous mood right now. My comic sense will hopefully return by the time I start on the next chapter.

(Please note that I greatly value my readers. I love storytelling and writing, but if I were doing this for myself more than half of my works would still be vague storylines floating about in my head. You guys are what motivate me to post these stories, and writing actually helped take my mind off of my less-than-happy condition, so I am not accusing any of you of pressuring me to write. In fact, thank you for giving me something fun to do in these difficult times. Maybe, once I've recovered and DBSK go back to making sweet music together, I'll edit this chapter and remove the flu-induced rant from above.)

So, what's going to happen in chapter 11 ... ? Guess. While I'm very pleased with this chapter, I've now got a headache, achy joints and a bad cough so I'm going to go curl up under some warm, warm blankets and pass out and hopefully when I wake up from my death-like sleep in two days' time the universe will be grovelling at my feet, apologizing for its unjust treatment of me and my pretty Korean boys, and will then grant me three wishes and a free lifetime's supply of chocolate to make up for everything.

Read & Review, please.


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